


cap. (steve rogers one-shots)

by rebelliousenjolras



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-05-22 20:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 42,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6093655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelliousenjolras/pseuds/rebelliousenjolras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain America/Steve Rogers one-shots.<br/>Feel free to request either in the comments or in a direct message! x</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. baby names.

summary: you and Steve are having a child, and the entire team decides to pitch in on baby names. 

word count: 1857

trigger warnings: fluff and humor

____________________________________________________________________________________

After over a year of trying, you and your fiance of a year and a half, Steve, were finally pregnant. It had been a long, difficult road in getting to this point, filled with plenty of tears, but you were absolutely over the moon now that you were carrying your child.

And... So were your friends.

They were a little too excited, if you were honest. Buying things for the baby's bedroom (though you still didn't know if it was a he or a she) and insisting on accompanying you to all of your doctor's appointments. Imagine having to explain to your gynecologist why a man wielding a hammer had burst into your ultrasound appointment fifteen minutes late and loudly proclaimed, "I have arrived to see the child of the Captain and Lady (Y/N)!"

It didn't go too well, and ended up with Thor being led out of the hospital by three very unfriendly security guards, and the Mjolnir being confiscated until Fury had the situation settled. 

Now, you and Steve had just arrived home from a particularly exciting doctor's appointment (Natasha and Bucky had driven separately, of course), where you'd found out the sex of your baby. Or at least you had that information, concealed on a piece of paper in a thick manila envelope.

At first, you had been unwilling to find out what you were having, as you insisted you'd love your baby no matter what he or she was. But then Steve pointed out how much easier it would be to shop if you knew, and plus, it would make you feel closer to the baby before it was born. 

So, you'd agreed, and now you were tightly clutching the envelope in your hands as Steve, always the gentleman, helped you out of the car. Just seconds later Bucky and Natasha pulled up behind you and hopped out, both anxious to find out what baby Rogers would be.

"C'mon, (Y/N), let's rip that bad boy open!" Bucky rubbed his hands together excitedly. 

You held the envelope more protectively towards your chest. For some reason, finding out the gender of your baby seemed like an intimate thing, something that only you and Steve should witness.

"Sorry guys, but I think I'm going to hold on to this for a little bit," you laughed as Bucky's face darkened and turned to pouty. "Aw, Buck, you know I love you, but I think this is a just Steve and me sort of thing."

Bucky grumbled something incoherent, and even though he was now extremely put out, he followed you inside the new Avengers headquarters and to the common room, where everyone was sat. Tony, Clint, Bruce, Maria, and Thor all looked up expectantly whenever you walked in. 

"Before any of you ask: Steve and I aren't looking yet. You'll all find out as soon as we do." You said.

Everyone groaned, and then Tony started ranting about how as third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth parents to your unborn child, they should have a say in any decisions that were made. All you could do was laugh and take a seat on the ground beside Maria as you listened to Tony speak.

Eventually, however, he calmed down enough to begin a discussion on baby names.

"I think Antonia Edith Rogers would be fantastic!" Tony shouted, raising his glass of wine into the air.

Maria choked on the sip of wine she'd just taken, and after she stopped coughing she began laughing. "That's terrible, Tony. Where the hell did that even come from?"

"Well, you're supposed to name kids after important people in your life, right? Why not base baby Roger's name off of the dearest friend that ole Spangles and Lady America ever had? A handsome, wise, fair gentleman by the name of--"

"James Buchanan Barnes, right?" Bucky interjected. "Besides, we all know I'm getting godfather. Why not give me the middle name slot as well?"

You rolled your eyes at the men's antics and turn to Natasha, lowering your voice slightly. "They do know they have absolutely zero say in this, right?"

Natasha snorted. "Do you really believe that?"

Suddenly, you felt Steve's face very close to your ear. He breathed, "Meet me in the kitchen," and then got up and left.

You counted to thirty before casually getting up and heading to the kitchen, but you needn't have worried. The boys were so wrapped up in arguing that Anthony James Thor was the perfect name for a baby to even notice that you-- and the envelope-- had left. 

Steve was leaned up against the kitchen counter casually, sipping on his second or third glass of wine. You stared at it longingly, and not for the first time, wished that women could drink when pregnant. Instead of focusing on this and your next 6 months alcohol-less, you chose to direct your attention to Steve. 

"What's up, love?" You asked quietly, though you already knew what Steve wanted to talk to you about.

Steve reached out and pulled you by your hips so that you were leaning against his chest. He leaned his head down and touched his lips to your forehead gently, and upon pulling away, said "So, doll, are you ready to find out if we're painting blue or pink?"

Your hands were shaking as you nodded yes and began carefully tearing opening the envelope. This was it, the moment where you learned whether baby Rogers would be a boy or a girl...

You gasped, and tears came to your eyes. You looked up, and Steve's eyes were glistening as well. 

***

You both quietly walked back into the common room, and by this point, everyone had noticed your absence. Bruce was the first one to see that the manila envelope was now open, and he practically jumped to his feet.

"You guys know?" He paused for you and Steve to nod. "Come on, tell us!"

Everyone cheered in agreement, and you realized that you had no choice, even if you didn't want to share the news with the group. Even though you were pregnant, you were pretty sure Tony and Natasha had no qualms with bending your arm behind your back and snatching the envelope out of your grip. 

You exchanged a long look with Steve, and though he was overcome with emotion, he managed to nod at you. 

"Okay, everyone, I hope all of your bets are in by this point," Tony grinned and crossed his fingers. "Steve and I are thrilled to announce that baby Rogers is a boy and a girl. We're having twins!"

Everyone was shocked. Obviously, you and Steve had known for quite a while now that you were expecting twins, but no one else had picked up on this during your hectic appointments, so you had kept it quiet. And all of that secrecy was worth it for the chance to see the world's mightiest heroes with mouths wide open, and some tearing up.

"Goddamn," Clint was the first to speak. "None of us bet on that, did we?" There was a murmur that went around the room, and then you had a brilliant idea. "How about you all use the money you bet on my children to buy us one hell of a baby shower gift?"

Tony scoffed. "You think I'm going to go all in with these people? No way, sweetheart. Rogers babies are getting a Jarvis-nanny, sweetheart!"

Your eyes grew wide, but then Tony burst into laughter, and you realized that he was kidding, thank God. Even though you loved Tony dearly, there was no way you'd let one of his little "inventions" care for your children, not after the whole Ultron incident.

The conversation settled back down, and you found yourself trapped in a serious discussion with Nat and Maria about your way-too extravagant baby shower. So far, they'd decided that it was going to be on the roof, with fireworks, a banner across the sky, and a hundred doves released at midnight.

"(Y/N)," Tony called, and you looked at him expectantly. "We've chosen names for my little goddaughter and godson: Antonia Clint Rogers and Buchanan Thor Rogers."

"Tony, this isn't just me saying no. This isn't even me just saying hell no. This is me saying that there is no fucking way that I am ever naming my children any variation of that." You smirked at Tony. "And I hate to break it to you, love, but Bucky is getting godfather."

Steve started laughing loudly at this and reached over to clap Bucky on the shoulder, who's expression mirrored a child on Christmas morning. And Tony, instead of being put off, just scratched those two name options off of his list and kept going. 

***

Several hours later, you and Steve had finally managed to break away from the party and retreat to your secluded quarters, which were mercifully far, far away from Tony Stark and his list of terrible baby names. 

Although you had been annoyed by Tony's antics, it did make you start thinking about what you wanted to name your children. You had several names in mind-- all classic, of course, and no silly spellings or anything like that. 

"Darling?" Steve said as he changed. "I have a couple ideas."

You rolled over in bed to face him and rested a hand on your rapidly-growing belly. "Go for it."

"Well, I was thinking..."

***

Just a few months later, you went through a long, eighteen hour delivery, but it was all worth it to meet your beautiful babies. You were thrilled that both children inherited Steve's gorgeous blue eyes, but your daughter had your (Y/H/C). They both arrived just as planned, and there were no complications, besides the fact that during labor, you somehow managed to defy all odds and break two bones in Steve's hand. 

As soon as the nursing staff would let them in, all of your friends crowded around you and Steve. You had a baby each, and they were napping peacefully in your arms. 

"So, what are we calling our little angels?" Natasha-- who'd been present during the delivery and was also named godmother-- cooed as she stroked your son's fine blonde hair. 

"Well, we actually didn't finalize names until about fifteen minutes ago. But we've got it now. So, without further ado, meet Elisabeth Natasha Rogers," you paused and exchanged a smile with Steve. "and Anthony Buchanan Rogers."

You turned to Tony, who, to your surprise, had unshed tears glistening in his eyes. He seemed to be at a loss for words, so instead he tipped his head towards you and Steve and reached out for your little Anthony. 

Steve-- who had passed Elisabeth carefully off to Clint-- came to stand at your side, and he quietly wrapped his arm around your shoulder while pressing a kiss to your temple. As you watched your friends all gush over your newborn children, you couldn't help but think how lucky you were to have a group of friends so invested in your life and well-being. 

Of course, the second Anthony and Elisabeth started crying, everyone mysteriously lost interest, but you tried you ignore that part.


	2. cookies.

summary: after steve is pulled out of the ice, you are assigned to acclimatize him to the 21st century... and one day, he tries to bake. 

word count: 1185

trigger warnings: none.

____________________________________________________________________________________

"(Y/N)?" you heard Steve's unsure voice call from the kitchen. "How do I work the-- uh-- micro-thing?"

You let out a groan of frustration and resisted the urge to slam your head against the table. "Hold on just a minute, Steve! And for the record, it's called a microwave."

When you had been assigned to be Captain America's official "21st century tour guide", you had no idea what you were getting yourself in to. The Captain, for all of his good assets, was utterly clueless when it came to simple everyday things. You tried to keep in mind that he'd never seen an iPhone before (or a YouPhone, as he called it on many occasions), and that the microwave was invented a few years after he was put in ice, but you were growing rather frustrated.

When you and Steve had first met, you'd tried to be polite and cordial, throwing in a few "yes sirs" and "Captains" to make him feel at ease, but that had quickly ended when you found out how incompetent he was. Now, five months into Steve's time as a man of the 2000's, it was all you could do to not call him a giant fucking meatball ass-hat every time he screwed up. 

That was another thing. Steve had been appalled when the first thing you said when you met him was, "It's about god damn time, Fury. I've been waiting, what, three fucking hours now?" To this day he still didn't understand why you took so much pleasure in saying the filthiest, most sarcastic thing you could thing of, but he'd slowly grown used to it. He'd also grown used to you threatening to sock him every time he called you "Ma'am" or "Agent (L/N)".

It had taken some time, but you and Steve were now entered into an uneasy alliance. You both lived in the Stark Tower, so it was rather easy to avoid each other unless it was absolutely necessary. It wasn't that you disliked the Captain, per se, you just missed the time in your life when you could sit and draw out plans for a mission without a super-soldier poking his head into your room and asking you ridiculous questions. ("Why the hell would they move Central Park, Cap? Of course it's still in the same place!")

"(Y/N)? Something's burning. I would really appreciate it if you could--"

Steve's voice was cut off by the shrill sound of the fire alarm going off, and you jumped to your feet quickly. You tried to cover your head to protect yourself from the harsh, cold droplets of water now falling from the ceiling, but it was no use. You were drenched within seconds. You silently cursed Steve, for existing, and Tony, for not telling you the codes to override Jarvis' controls, as you made your way into the kitchen. 

It was a complete and utter mess. There was flour all over the floor (and in Steve's hair), smoke pouring out of the microwave, and something that looked like chocolate was splattered across the wall...

"Steve," you tried to keep your voice cool. You'd never blown up at Steve before, not really, but you felt like you were close. "What the actual hell happened in here?"

Steve blushed profusely and ran a hand through his now-wet hair. "I was trying to make some cookies, y'know? So I found this recipe on the-- uh-- net, and it said to put the cookies in the microwave oven for--"

You immediately realized what had happened, and you threw your hands up in the air, completely giving up on your hair, and began laughing. The situation was so ridiculous, when you thought about it. The Captain America, the super-soldier frozen in a block of ice for seventy years, couldn't make a fucking batch of cookies. He'd fought in Nazi Germany, taken out Red Skull himself, sacrificed his life, yet he didn't know the difference between a microwave and an oven. And now, he was standing in front of you, soaking wet, with flour in his hair and a smudge of chocolate on his cheek.

"Oh, honey," you let out another peal of laughter as Steve stared at you, shocked by the pet name. "You're supposed to put them in oven, not the microwave. That's why they exploded-- hey, why were you baking, anyway?"

Steve now looked uncomfortable, but you refused to back down. He eventually sighed and leaned up against the counter, nearly sticking his elbow into a bowl of watery chocolate.

"I was-- uh-- trying to surprise you," Steve flushed and cleared his throat awkwardly. "You've put up with me for so long now, I figured it was time I showed my appreciation."

You moved towards Steve and rested your hand gently on his arm. "Thank you for the gesture, Steve. Just promise me one thing, alright? You'll never, ever try to use the kitchen without adult supervision, alright?" You nudged him playfully. 

As you watched Steve stammer and blush, something clicked inside of you. Suddenly, he was no longer the annoying puppy dog super-soldier, but a man, confused and trying to adjust to live after being practically dead for seventy years. Your heart went out to him, and you regretted all of the times you'd complained and insulted him. Steve was trying his best, given the circumstances. 

"Steve, listen, I'm sorry if I've been a little bit of a bitch--" you rolled your eyes at the face Steve made. "--jerk, these past few months. I shouldn't have taken out my frustration on you."

Steve smiled at you brightly. "It's alright, (Y/N). I know I haven't been the easiest person to put up with."

You smiled softly at Steve, and suddenly, your faces were mere inches apart. Your breath hitched, and it was all you could do to not lean forward and close the distance between Steve and you. Then, Steve's eyes fluttered shut, and his lips were against yours--

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I leave you kids alone for what, a few hours? And I come home to find you going at it in my kitchen! Which, I might add, is completely destroyed. And why haven't you turned off the sprinklers? JARVIS, shut them off." Tony said. 

In a matter of seconds, the sprinkler system was shut off, and you and Steve were left--arms wrapped around each other-- to face Tony. He was looking back at you two gleefully, surely thinking of a million ways to embarrass you with what he'd just witnessed.

"Um, rain check on this, alright?" you laughed at your own joke as you gestured between you and Steve. "I'll see you later."

You turned on your heel, flicked your sopping wet hair over your shoulder, and brushed against Tony as you left the kitchen. "Not a word, Stark. You hear me?" you hissed quietly, low enough that Steve couldn't hear. 

"Oh, sweetheart, you know that's not my style." Tony smirked.

You groaned, but then you caught Steve's eye. Maybe, few dozen jokes would be worth it, if you got to feel those lips against yours again.


	3. nightmares.

summary: you have been having nightmares about steve dying after the events of winter soldier, so he comforts you every night. you gather the courage to admit your feelings to steve, with surprising results.

word count: 1405

trigger warnings: none

____________________________________________________________________________________

"Everything will be alright, doll. We'll replace the chips, take out the Helicarriers and be home just in time for dinner," Steve kissed your forehead gently. "And that's a promise, Agent (Y/L/N)."

"You better not be lying to me, Captain. Because if I do remember correctly, my best friend and I had plans to go dancing next week, and he'd better not disappoint."

You tried to smile at Steve, but it came out more like a grimace. Even though Steve tried to assure you otherwise, you knew that this mission was hopeless. You and the rest of the team were going up against HYDRA, a compromised S.H.I.E.L.D, and the elusive Winter Soldier himself. It seemed impossible, that you'd be able to replace the chips in all three Helicarriers before they were deployed and killed millions. In fact, you weren't even sure you'd live to see nightfall. 

Steve was insisting that you stay with Agent Hill and guard her back while she works the controls. You wanted to go with Steve and help him and Sam replace chips, but the Captain, stubborn as ever, refused. He stayed firm in his decision that your talents as a trained assassin and hacker would be put to much better use overriding the controls than fighting. 

And so, you complied. You took out a dozen or two S.H.I.E.L.D and HYDRA members-- it was impossible to tell who was who anymore-- and now, you and Agent Hill had received the command you'd been waiting for. It was time.

You couldn't really make out what Agent Hill and Steve were saying, but it sounded like an argument. Your comm had gotten damaged during a particular nasty scuffle with a large, beefy agent, and you were now fighting off a couple of his cronies by yourself. 

"Any time now, Captain!" you called breathlessly, delivering yet another clean blow to one of the men's faces.

Then, it was over. The Helicarriers went down, one after the other. After knocking out the last agent in your vicinity, you turned to Agent Hill, wiping blood from a cut on your lip. You only then realized that Agent Hill wouldn't quite meet your eyes, and her expression was grim.

"Agent Hill-- Maria," you ditched formalities, deciding that if S.H.I.E.L.D was down, there was no use in sticking with their appointed rites. "What's happening? Did the Helicarriers not go down according to plan? Did-- did we lose someone?"

Your heart sank when Maria continued to avoid your gaze. She only gave you a noncommittal jerk of her head as she turned back to the computer screens. You slammed your fist against the desktop, causing Maria to jerk and finally, her eyes met yours.

Immediately you knew. You knew why she resisted Steve's orders, and why she wouldn't speak to you. Steve was doing exactly what he'd done over seventy years ago, when he crashed that jet into the ocean. The captain was going down with the ship. Or in this case, the Helicarrier. 

You let out a small cry and hung your head. Maria didn't have to confirm anything. She didn't have to say a single god damn word, because you knew Steve Rogers like no other. You knew he'd sacrifice himself without a thought about himself. You knew your best friend, and you knew that he'd rather go out in a blaze of fire than see millions of people die. 

"(Y/N), we've got to get out of here. The Department of Defense, they've already caught wind of what we did. We've got to regroup, get our stories straight, figure out what the hell our next move is," Maria said gently. "I know you're hurting, but we've got to move."

You nodded mutely, and allowed her to pull you by the arm out of the building and into a helicopter driven by Fury and Natasha. Sam was already seated inside. You didn't speak to anyone, didn't allow Sam to pull you into a hug, because your best friend was dead. You would never see him again, and worst of all, you could never admit to him how you felt.

"No, no, no, Steve," you moaned. "Steve, no!"

You sat upright in bed, clutching the comforter to your chest as your eyes flew open. Your heart was beating wildly as you tried to make sense of what was happening, where you were, what day it was...

"(Y/N), I'm here. Everything's alright, sweetheart, I'm here."

And then Steve's arms were around you as he slid into your bed, a routine you had perfectly choreographed by now. He pulled you against his chest and slowly began rocking back and forth, whispering words of comfort into your ear. You wildly grabbed at his shirt as you inhaled the scent that was so distinctly Steve, trying to find something to anchor you to reality. 

"Your name is (Y/F/M/L/N). You were born on (Y/B/D). We met in 2011, and later on, we were both assigned to the Avengers Initiative. We've been best friends for four years." Steve murmured softly, stroking your hair.

You tried to control your breathing and focus on the words that Steve was repeating over and over in a low whisper. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead, because he was here, and you were in his arms, and you both were safe.

It had been three long months since you, Steve, Maria, Natasha, and Nick had taken down S.H.I.E.L.D. And during those three months, you'd been plagued with nightmares of Steve dying, of the Winter Soldier (who you now were working actively to find) brutally beating him, of not seeing Steve alive on a hospital bed, but in a casket. You couldn't sleep through the night without waking up screaming for Steve, and he came. Every single night that he was home (home being the apartment you, Sam, and Steve were staying in during your hunt for Bucky), he came to you and stayed the entire night. 

"You okay?" Steve asked, pulling back from you just a bit. 

You offered him a weak, watery smile. "I'm alright. Just the same old, same old. I'm sorry you have to keep doing this, Steve. I don't know how to stop it..." You trailed off helplessly, staring down at your lap.

Steve lifted your chin so your eyes met. He wiped the few stray tears off your cheeks and brushed back your hair. 

"Hey, (Y/N). As long as you need me, I'm here, you got that? Doesn't matter what I'm doing, where I'm at. You just say the word, doll, and I'll be by your side in a second." Steve smiled at your softly, then pulled you in again for another hug.

You nuzzled your face against Steve's chest, thankful that he couldn't see the blush creeping across your cheeks. You had to tell him. You had to know whether or not Steve Rogers loved you as deeply as you loved him. 

"I love you," you mumbled into his chest. "A lot."

You felt Steve chuckle as he squeezed you tighter. "I love you too, (Y/N)."

You leaned back from Steve in an effort to see his face. From the looks of it, he hadn't thought much of your words. After all, you'd been best friends for years. "I love you" wasn't an uncommon sentiment exchanged between the two of you. 

"No, Steve," you paused, bracing yourself for possible embarrassment and humiliation. "I love you."

Steve furrowed his brow, lips parting in confusion. "What do you m-- Oh. Oh!" It was Steve's turn to look awkward. "Really?"

You cringed inwardly as you disentangled yourself from Steve. It had been a bad idea, admitting your feelings for the super-solider. You supposed that you'd be waking up alone from now on. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to not cry in front of Steve again. When you opened them, you were surprised to see Steve intently staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face. You opened your mouth to speak, but Steve beat you to it.

"May I kiss you?" Steve asked quietly. 

You nodded, eyes growing wide as Steve leaned in and pressed his lips against yours softly. You leaned in to the kiss, hesitantly wrapping your arms around Steve's neck and threading your fingers in his hair. He responded with equal enthusiasm, pulling you flush against his chest. 

After several seconds-- or maybe it was minutes, or hours, or years, you weren't quite sure-- you and Steve broke apart, lips swollen and faces red. 

"I love you too, (Y/N). Always have, always will."


	4. captain. (pt. I)

summary: you and steve are in a long-term relationship, but you feel like he's starting to be controlling. you call him out on it, and he is not pleased.

word count: 887

trigger warnings: angst, and lots of it. good luck.

____________________________________________________________________________________

You were so sick and damn tired of listening to the Captain's every command. You were sick of being treated as a subordinate rather than his fiancee. You were sick of having to answer to and make every move based on Steve's wishes. You were sick of being seen as Captain America's girl, rather than the trained, highly-dangerous assassin-slash-Avenger that you were. You were sick of living a life nothing like the one you had always imagined for yourself.

And so you told him. You told Steve that you were done playing obedient fiancee to him, and you were going to make your own choices in decisions. You still respected him, you said, but if you were on a mission and you had a gut feeling about something, you were going to follow through with it. If you didn't believe Steve was right about something, you were going to call him out for it. You were an Avenger, for God's sake. You weren't a soldier.

Steve hadn't taken this so well. First, he'd accused you of trying to run the team-- which you assured him you wanted no part of, you were only a part of the Avengers Initiative on Fury's request-- and then attempted to say that you expected preferential treatment as his fiancee. Then, however, Steve had hit you with the hardest blow. 

"Damn it, (Y/N)! Peggy would have never gone against me like that--"

All you could see was red, and you couldn't control the cruel thoughts that were now swirling around in your mind. Your only objective right now was to hit Steve in all the places that hurt, to make him feel exactly as you did right now. You took a deep breath and looked Steve squarely in the eye, not backing away from his harsh gaze.

"Is that what you want, then? For me to be more like your precious Peggy? To be obedient and follow you around like a lovesick puppy, and wait like a dutiful wife for you to come home from a mission? To have dinner on the table and the kids all washed up, and to not have a damn thought for myself in my own damn mind?"

Steve looked taken aback by your harsh words, but he pressed on. 

"You know what, (Y/N)? A little compassion would be nice every once in a while! I get enough shit from Tony and the others on the field, the last thing I need is you doing it in our own home! So yeah, maybe you should take some notes from Peggy." Steve growled. 

You were momentarily stunned, but you wouldn't let Steve win, not now. 

"I'm so sorry, Captain Rogers," you snarled, clenching your fists at your side. "I won't disobey direct orders again-- actually, you know what? Scratch that. I'm fucking done."

"You'd do well to obey your commander wherever you end up next, Agent (Y/L/N)." Steve said tersely. 

You could tell that he was trying to keep his cool, but you couldn't help yourself. You had to push him. You weren't going to let him get away with treating you like this, even if he was Captain Fucking America, the golden boy of the country.

"'Where I end up next'? Captain, I'm not sure you quite grasp how much jurisdiction you have here. To make it clear, you can't fire me from the team. I worked under Fury for years before you were thawed; he'd be much more likely to listen to one of his best and most trusted agents than the 97 year old freak show who's apparently coined himself the Supreme Commander of this team--"

Your breath hitched as Steve slammed his fist into the wall above your head. You heard a sickening crunch as his knuckles cracked, and blood was running down the wall. For a slight moment, you thought his fist had been aimed at your face. 

But no. Even in a fit of rage, as the girl he loved walked away from him, Steve Rogers would never hit her. As much as he infuriated her, as much as she wanted to hate him, she couldn't begrudge him that. He was truly a gentleman, through-and-through.

"(Y/N), if you walk out that door..." Steve breathed heavily and clenched his fists, ignoring the fact that he was now dropping splatters of blood onto the floor. "If you walk out that door, I'm not coming after you. Not anymore. Do you understand that? This is the last god damn time."

You laughed once, without humor, and ducked from beneath Steve's arm in the direction of the door. As hard as you tried not to, you had to look back. And by God, you wished you hadn't. Because Steve was just standing there, staring at the spot on the wall where you'd been just seconds previously, and his face was... Broken. Steve, who you'd never seen cry, now had tears rapidly flowing down his cheeks. 

And it killed you inside, to know that you were the reason for this. But Steve hadn't acted like a boyfriend to you in a long time, and then he'd compared you to Peggy... Your resolve firmed, and you found the strength to leave the training room, letting the door slam shut behind you.

This time, you didn't look back.


	5. a drink or two.

summary: you and the rest of the team go out to a club per tony's request. there, you all get completely wasted, save for a certain blond haired, blue eyed super-soldier.

word count: 2580

trigger warnings: alcohol and hijinks. 'nuff said.

____________________________________________________________________________________

"Jesus Christ, what happened last night?" You mumbled tiredly. 

You looked around you at the destroyed room. You had woken up stretched across Steve's lap on a sofa in the common area of the Avengers tower, but that wasn't the weird part. The weird part was the fact that you could see Tony curled up on the dining table, a house plant clutched to his chest, and Thor lying face down in a pile of chocolate syrup on the kitchen floor. Natasha was asleep on the sofa directly across from you, and oddly enough, she was wearing a giant fedora. You could also see the edge of Bucky's head, poking out from beneath the coffee table in the middle of the room. The weirdest part of it all, though, was the fact that Bruce was attached to one of the giant ceiling-to-floor windows with pink duck tape.

You tried to sit up, but then you saw Clint. He was leaning up against the sofa, holding onto your foot like his life depended on it as he slept. You tried to shake him off, to kick him, even, but nothing worked. You were stuck. All of your movement must have woken Steve, because he suddenly sat up, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his disheveled blond hair.

"Good morning, (Y/N)" Steve said rather loudly, causing you to clutch your head in agony. 

"Shh, shh," you groaned as you leaned back against Steve's chest. "Inside voices, please."

Steve chuckled quietly and began absentmindedly stroking your hair. "Do you have any idea what happened last night?"

You tried to rack your brains and come up with a memory or two, but it only made your head hurt more. The last thing you remembered was being dragged to an upscale club by Tony, the other Avengers in tow, and drinking and dancing like there was no tomorrow...

"I might have had a drink or two... Or twenty." You confessed sheepishly.

Steve laughed again. "Since you obviously don't remember anything, I guess I'll have to start from the beginning. So, you and Natasha had just ordered another round of vodka..."

You had never been this wasted in your entire life. Tony had convinced you-- and the rest of the team-- to accompany him to a new, upscale club downtown, where he promised that you'd have the "time of your life." 

And oh, were you ever. After taking a couple shots, you were already hammered. You were notorious for being a lightweight, and often the first to get drunk at parties. Steve and Bucky-- both being super-soldiers who couldn't get drunk-- often took turns babysitting you, as you often made reckless and stupid decisions while intoxicated. 

Tonight was no different. Steve was currently on babysitting duty, and already he had ruined your fun by not letting some tall, handsome stranger take you to a darkened corner of the club. You pouted for a few minutes, but then Natasha offered up another round of shots, and you perked up rather quickly. You followed the curvy redhead to the bar, where she flirted with the bartender until he agreed to give you a round of shots on the house. 

You were constantly amazed by Natasha's ability to get whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, just by using her sex appeal and a few sugar-coated words. You'd never been able to take control of a situation like she did, and in all honesty, you were a little jealous of your best friend. Yes, you thought yourself to be attractive and yes, you'd had several boyfriends in the past, but you couldn't work a room the way Natasha did. Instead of batting eyelashes and pouting lips, you would end up with runny mascara and awkward stammers.

You mused over this as you stumbled back to the private room that Tony had rented. You flopped down on the couch next to Steve, who looked extremely pissed off. You vaguely thought that it probably had something to do with the man who was flirting with you earlier, but that thought quickly disappeared. Now, you only had one mission: Operation Get Steve to Lighten Up. 

And so, doing something you had never attempted before, you decided to put your so-called sex appeal to use. You scooted closer on the black leather couch to Steve, laying your hand on his arm to get his attention. Steve looked down at you as he took a sip of beer, and using a move you'd seen Natasha use countless times, you fluttered your eyelashes at him and smiled coyly.

Steve nearly choked on his drink.

"Hey-- Um," he coughed. "What's up, (Y/N)?"

You laughed softly and began slowly running your hand up Steve's arm. "Nothing much, Steve. Though I am a little put out that you wouldn't let me have my fun earlier," you paused and leaned in close to Steve's ear. "That guy sure looked like he could show me a good time."

Steve's eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of his head and he was blushing like crazy."(Y/N)? Are you okay? You're not acting like yourself."

You pouted and moved away from Steve slightly. "That's not very nice, is it?"

Steve now looked worried, like he thought he had actually offended you. He hurriedly wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a quick hug, planting a kiss on your forehead. "You know, (Y/N), you're adorable," Steve flushed. "And drunk. Very, very drunk."

You crinkled your nose and pulled out of Steve's embrace. He looked significantly less pissed off now, and was staring at you with a goofy grin on his face. You couldn't help but smile back at him, now giggling hysterically. So much for sex appeal. 

"Up for another one?" Clint said suddenly, coming up and sitting down on Steve's other side.

You nodded eagerly and moved to take the beer Clint was offering you, but Steve grabbed your hand.

"Not so fast, (Y/N). I think it's time we cut you off." 

You let out a snort. "Cut me off? I'm perfectly fine, Cap. Do I need to do one of those straight-line walking tests? Because I could totally do that. Like, I could even do it with my eyes closed."

You stood up and began to perform a very botched version of the field sobriety test, wobbling and running into Steve's legs. With a small, "Oomph" you fell into his lap, your head too close to his crotch for comfort. 

"Damn, (Y/N), Steve! Save it for the bedroom, you two." Tony chuckled and winked at you.

You only grinned back and lifted yourself back into a sitting position. You were now sitting on your knees very close to Steve's face, and you could tell that he was trying to look anywhere but your lips. You licked your lips in what you hoped was a seductive manner, and leaned across Steve, taking advantage of his momentary distraction to grab the beer out of Clint's hands. 

"Thank you very much!" You chirped, taking a long drink from the bottle.

Steve only rolled his eyes and shook his head at you, grabbing a drink of his own. He raised his glass to yours in a toast, and you clinked your bottles together.

"To a night of loosening up and having fun," you smirked.

"To a night of loosening up and having fun." Steve repeated with a small smile, nodding his head at you.

The rest of the night passed in a similar fashion, with you rotating back and forth between curling up against Steve and letting Bucky pull you onto the dance floor. You would throw your head back and laugh, your (H/C) curls bouncing and your eyes bright with happiness. Steve looked on as Bucky spun you around the room again and again, a dark expression crossing his face

 

"Why do we have to go home?" You whined, letting Steve pull you by the arm out the front doors of the club. "I was having so much fun!"

"Yeah, why do we have to go home?" Tony echoed. 

He was stumbling a few feet in front of you with Thor-- who'd been sipping on Asgardian liquor all night, proclaiming that mortals had a weak taste in alcohol-- and Clint. Natasha was holding her high heels in her hand and a martini that she'd managed to sneak out the door in the other, and Bucky had mysteriously disappeared several hours earlier with a curvy brunette. Bruce was walking a few paces behind Natasha, hands in his pockets as he swayed back and forth, humming some pop song in an off-key voice.

Your feet were killing you at this point, even though you'd already followed Natasha's initiative and slipped off your tall silver pumps. All you wanted was to find a nice patch of sidewalk, curl up, and go to sleep, but Steve insisted that you make it back to the tower, first. You all had decided to walk, given that the tower was only a few blocks away, but now that seemed like a very, very bad idea. 

Just then, a brilliant idea hit you. "Hey, Steve?" you said sweetly. He stared at you, weary that you were going to start flirting with him again. "Can you do me a huge favor?"

Steve stopped in the middle of the street and stared at you suspiciously. "And that is--?"

You held out your arms to him. "Give me a piggy ride, please. For I'm a poor, distraught damsel or whatever, and I would be ever so grateful if you, a dashing man of the golden age of chivalry, would carry me--"

Steve rolled his eyes, but nevertheless bent down so you could hop on his back. You let out a small squeal before wrapping your arms and legs around Steve's back and resting your head on top of his. He stood back up, and he hurried to catch up with the rest of the group. You heard Natasha mutter something about you receiving unfair treatment, but you ignored it, because Steve smelled so good, and his hair was so soft, and the muscles in his back were so defined...

You realized with a start that you'd arrived at the Avengers Tower. Steve softly set you down, but he continued to hold your hand as he led the way inside of the building. The elevator ride was chaotic, to say the least. Tony loudly proclaimed that you all were going to keep the party going in the lounge, and to this Natasha had thrown her now-empty martini glass into the air, causing small glass shards to fly everywhere. Steve then proceeded to lecture you all, but he was quickly drowned out by the sound of Thor and Bruce beginning a belching contest.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, you, Clint, and Tony made a beeline for the bar. Tony was a pretty good mixologist, and he began preparing drinks immediately. You took a long drink from a Sex on the Beach, savoring the delicious flavor. 

You wandered around the room for several moments, chatting with your friends and trying to avoid knocking into furniture. It was harder than it looked, to say the least. You winded up again on the sofa with Steve. For some reason, you couldn't stop looking at him. The strong line of his jaw, his gorgeous cerulean eyes, the way his lips formed your name... What the hell was happening to you?

It was just the alcohol, you assured yourself. It was the alcohol, and the way Steve's eyes lit up when they met yours, and how nicely his blue dress shirt hugged his figure. It was because of all of these things that your heart fluttered every time Steve's arm brushed against yours, or he laughed particularly hard at one of your bad jokes. You didn't have feelings for him; Steve was one of your best friends. You couldn't.

But damn, right now, you wanted nothing more than to have Steve Rogers' lips on yours, and his fingers in your hair, and possible in a few other places...

"Why the hell not," you muttered, and without waiting for your drunk conscience to kick in, you leaned over and kissed Steve full on the mouth.

You could tell that Steve was startled by your forward action, but after a few seconds, he responded and leaned in to your kiss. It was short-lived, though, as Steve almost immediately pushed himself away from you.

"(Y/N), we can't. You're drunk, and I won't take advantage of you like that." Steve sighed, looking everywhere but your eyes.

You rolled your eyes at Steve. "It's not taking advantage if I want it." You reasoned. 

Steve smiled at you, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He took your hand in his and kissed it softly. "In the morning, if you still want this, let me know."

"Fucking hell," you groaned as the memories of last night came flooding back to you. "I'm such an idiot-- No, screw that. I'm an embarrassment to society. God, Steve, I'm so sorry."

Steve only chuckled. "You were drunk off your ass last night, (Y/N). I don't hold any of that against you."

You offered him an awkward smile before looking around the room at your friends. "So... What the hell happened here?"

Steve sighed. "Do you want the long version or the short one?"

"Short, please."

"Okay, so basically, Natasha stole that fedora off of some guy on the street. Tony was trying to make a Pina Colada, but his blender broke and in his despair he passed out holding a pineapple. Thor was thirsty, so he decided to drink some chocolate syrup, and we can see how that ended..." Steve trailed off and shuddered. "Clint bet Bruce that he couldn't down more shots of whiskey in a minute than he could, and when Bruce lost, the penalty was that Clint was allowed to duck tape him to the wall. Bucky got home a few hours after you crashed with a girl and said something about the coffee table being safe and warm, and that's when I fell asleep." Steve summarized, shaking his head as he recounted the antics of his friends. 

You laughed quietly, wincing when your head began throbbing again. You knew that you had to address what had happened with Steve last night, and your new-found feelings for him, but you didn't know how. After all, he was one of your best friends. You didn't want to lose that.

"So, about last night..." Steve had already beaten you to the punch. "Did you mean what you said? That you... Wanted me?"

You blushed almost as bright of a red as Steve and squeezed your eyes shut, nodding slowly. You were afraid to open your eyes, knowing that Steve would most likely be staring at you with pity, or worse, laughing. So, you were surprised when a pair of lips descended upon yours, placing a feather-soft kiss before retreating just as quickly. 

Your eyes flew open in surprise, and you were shocked to see Steve grinning at you. "I like you, (Y/N), a lot."

You opened your mouth to respond, but someone else was shouting. Bucky, who had woken a few minutes prior and shuffled to the bathroom, now appeared in the lounge, a panicked expression on his face.

"Guys, there's some random brunette chick passed out in the bathtub!"


	6. content.

summary: you are engaged to steve rogers-- and you recently found out that you're pregnant. you're scared to tell him, because you overheard him telling tony how he wasn't sure he wanted a family. 

word count: 1320

trigger warnings: nah.

____________________________________________________________________________________

"I don't know. Family, stability; guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago. I think someone else came out." 

You couldn't help but overhear Steve's conversation with Tony. It was an accident, really. You hadn't mean to eavesdrop, and now you were wishing that you'd waited just a few more minutes to come outside. 

Because every word that Steve had spoken was the truth, like always. And up until recently-- three months, to be exact-- you'd felt the same way. But now... All of that had changed. 

"(Y/N)! Wait up." 

You wiped your eyes quickly, wanting to avoid raising any suspicion with Steve. He came to a pause beside you and threw an arm around your shoulder. If he noticed your blotchy face and red eyes, he didn't say anything. 

"Yeah, Steve? What's up?"

You plastered a false smile onto your face. Steve accepted it without batting an eye.

"Tony's leaving. He wanted me to tell you goodbye for him. He would have stuck around, but Pepper was waiting on him back at headquarters."

Steve took your hand, squeezing it slightly. This gesture, rather than reassure you, only made your chest feel tight. 

"Um, would you excuse me for a little it? There's something I, um, have to talk to Nat about."

Without waiting for an answer, you gingerly pried your hand out of Steve's grip and took off in a jog towards the building. Thankfully Steve didn't follow you, having enough sense to realize that you wanted to be alone. 

It took you quite a while to find Natasha, as you still got turned around in the new Avenger's Headquarters. You finally found her in one of the many training facilities, practicing with a giant dummy. She stopped what she was doing the second she caught a glimpse of the expression on your face.

"(Y/N)? What the hell happened?" Natasha rushed forward and grabbed your wrists.

"I'm fine, Nat. At least, physically. But I overheard Steve talking to Tony before he left earlier, and he was saying all of these things that I used to agree with. But recently, you know, circumstances have changed, and I--"

"For God's sake, (Y/N), spit it out!" 

Natasha looked extremely worried now. It wasn't like you to be so outward with your emotions; you were often calm, cool, and collected, and rarely let people see your true emotions. In the few years that Natasha had known you, she'd never once seen you so hysterical. 

"Natasha... I'm pregnant. And I'm terrified that Steve won't want it-- or me-- once he finds out."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears. You'd known about your pregnancy for about three weeks now, and you hadn't once voiced your fears aloud-- or told anyone at all, for that matter-- in that entire time. 

"(Y/N), you listen very carefully to what I'm about to say, alright? If you believe for one second that Steve Rogers would abandon you, especially now, then you're the biggest fool that I've ever known. And secondly, some of us aren't fortunate enough to be able to have children. Be grateful that you can."

Natasha dropped your wrists, staring at you so harshly that you felt like you were shrinking under her gaze. 

"God, Nat. I'm so sorry; that's now what I was meaning at all. It's not that I'm not excited, it's just that I'm terrified of raising a child in this lifestyle... In this world." You sighed heavily and massaged your temples. 

Natasha nodded and pursed her lips. "We'll just have to be even more careful, won't we? We've saved the world how many times now? I think, if you put all of us together, we can handle it."

"And, of course, you'll be the godmother."

Finally, Natasha smiled, pulling you into a short but tight hug. 

"Watch it!" You teased, laying a hand on your slightly bulging belly.

"Oh, sorry," Natasha grinned and pulled away from you. "Now, you'd better go and find Steve and tell him before I do."

You opened your mouth to respond when a voice sounded from the door. 

"Tell Steve what?" Your boyfriend of two and a half years sauntered in, eyebrows creased with worry. "What's going on, (Y/N)? Is everything alright?"

Natasha shot you an encouraging but threatening smile before skipping past Steve and out the door, leaving you alone with him. You kept your eyes trained on the door until the silence became unbearable, and you just had to say something. 

This was it, the moment of truth. You had to be brave.

"Steve," you paused. "I have to tell you something."

"I gathered that much," Steve moved towards you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. "Sweetheart, I've been worried about you. You've been acting so off lately--"

"Please," you held up a hand. "I have to say this before I pass out. Steve... I'm pregnant. Three months now."

Steve's entire face went completely blank. For a second, you worried that he'd gone into shock or something as equally horrific. But then, his face lit up in a bright smile.

"We're having a baby?" Steve said quietly, barely able to contain his excitement. 

"Yeah, we're having a bay." You grinned at him, feeling tears of happiness and relief well in your eyes.

Steve picked you up and spun you around, but then seemed to remember the baby and hurriedly sat you down. Tears were glistening in Steve's eyes as he placed both of his hands against your stomach.

"Hey, little baby. I'm your daddy, you know that? I'm going to love and protect you forever, baby. I won't let anyone ever hurt you or your mommy." Steve cooed. He then kissed your stomach over the fabric of your t-shirt. 

"I love you so much." 

You kissed Steve, now letting your tears fall freely. He said nothing, as he was unable to speak without crying. 

All of the things Steve had said, they now meant nothing. He was going to be a father to a beautiful little boy or girl, and that was all that mattered.

 

SIX MONTHS LATER

"Are you ready to meet your uncles and aunties, darling?" 

Steve was holding your baby, cooing to her as you entered the Avenger's headquarters. You hadn't seen your friends in the week since you had your baby, as they'd all been out on a mission at the time (Pepper had stayed with you at Headquarters until Steve was able to return), so they hadn't met your precious baby yet. Natasha had, of course, being the child's godmother and all, but the others had been pestering you since the moment they got back to see her. Steve was beside himself with excitement, ready to show off his daughter for the first time. 

The second you entered the room, everyone practically pounced on your baby girl. They were comments on how beautiful she was, and how she was the spitting image of Steve, and then Clint managed to push his way to the front of the throng.

"Come to Uncle Clint!" 

Clint had already begun easing the little pink bundle out of Steve's arms when you stopped him.

"Not so fast, Barton!" you teased him. "She hasn't been properly introduced yet, has she? Audrey Buchanan Rogers, meet your family."

You smiled down at your baby girl-- with her blonde hair and blue eyes, so much like her father's-- and smiled. Naming her had come naturally to you both. Audrey was a lovely, classic name, with sentimental ties to your mother, who's name had also been Audrey. Buchanan, of course, honored Steve's long-lost (and now found) friend. 

For the first time in your life, you were content. With a beautiful baby girl in your arms, a caring fiance at your side, and friends bickering over who was the next to hold your daughter, you were completely and utterly happy.


	7. agent carter.

summary: steve takes his new girl to meet his best girl.

word count: 3308

trigger warnings: angst, angst, and more angst. I'm so sorry.

okay this is seriously my most favorite thing that I've ever written, period. it kind of leans more steggy at times, but I promise, there's still a big chunk of steve x reader in there.

also-- would you guys be interested to see this expanded into a part II? let me know. x

____________________________________________________________________________________

NOVEMBER 1943

The bar was dark, dingy, and filled to the brim with soldiers, drunk of their asses in an effort to forget the horrors of the things they had faced. Steve Rogers, having just finished recruiting the men he thought to be the best of the best to his Howling Commandos, was attempting to make his way to the bar to order a drink, though it wouldn't do him much good. He saw a familiar head of dark brown hair leaning up against the bar counter by the jukebox, surveying the very few young women who were in the room. 

Bucky Barnes smiled widely as Steve approached him, though his eyes were still a little guarded, hesitant. Even though it had been several weeks since he'd been rescued, Bucky still had a hard time adjusting to the sight of Steve. In the span of time since Bucky had last seen him, his best friend had gained six inches and a hundred or so pounds. Not to mention, women's eyes now followed Steve when he entered a room, and they looked crushed when he hardly spared them a second glance. Bucky himself was used to evoking this sort of reaction in women, but Steve? It was practically unheard of. 

And that agent, the one with the dark hair and dark eyes, she and Steve had something going on. She was fiery, headstrong, beautiful, and one hell of a match for Steve. Bucky wouldn't be surprised that when this damn war was over, and they were back home, that Steve married her. He hoped that happened, anyway. If anyone deserved a little bit of good luck, it was Steve Rogers. 

Bucky pushed away his thoughts, which were steadily turning darker and darker, and instead refocused on his conversation with Steve. 

"You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?" Steve asked, a hint of seriousness in his playful tone. 

Bucky contemplated his answer for half a millisecond before responding. "Hell, no. That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I'm following him."

Steve's gaze softened, and just as he was about to respond the door opened, and the entire bar fell silent. Bucky whipped his head around to see the agent, Peggy Carter, saunter in, clad in a bright red dress and even brighter lipstick. Her eyes were cool, dark, betraying no hint of emotion as she joined Steve and Bucky at the bar. However, Bucky was sure that he saw a hint of something flash across her face when she looked at Steve. 

"Captain," Peggy said softly. 

"Agent Carter," Steve responded just as quietly, though there was a hint of nervousness in his tone that hadn't been present in Peggy's. 

Smooth, Rogers, Bucky thought silently. He then smiled in what he thought was a charming, boyish way before offering Peggy a "Ma'am," with a nod of his head. She, not unlike Steve with the other women in this bar, hardly looked his way. 

Bucky watched silently--slightly stunned--as Peggy and Steve exchanged a few more words before the attractive brunette turned to leave. Steve stared after her like a puppy dog, eyes slightly bulged and filled with an emotion that Bucky could only describe as love. 

"I'm invisible. I'm turning into you, it's like a horrible dream," Bucky joked.

Steve turned to him, a small smirk on his face. "Don't take it so hard. Maybe she's got a friend."

 

SEPTEMBER 2014

That day in the bar, when hopes had been so high and thoughts of death and growing old so low, seemed like a million years ago to Steve Rogers. He had been chipped away and thawed from the ice several years previously, but still, adjusting to the modern world was a challenge. He didn't truly grasp what the Internet was, or why iPhones were such a big deal, and why everyone was freaking about about rumors of a new Stars Wars movie. He didn't get the fashion, or the hair, or the makeup. Nothing about those lit-up neon signs in Times Square made sense to him. 

He had nothing from his previous life, nothing except for the few artifacts that had gone into the ice with him. Bucky had been dead for nearly seventy years, the rest of his team for decades. There was only one person, in fact, who still tied him to his old life. She was old and frail now, and barely able to move around on her own, but she was still the Peggy Carter that Steve had so deeply loved for so long. She was still so vibrant, intelligent, still so beautiful in her old age. 

He'd been visiting her for almost a year now, ever since he caught a whisper that she was still alive. The visits, although a sort-of therapy for him, weren't without heartache. Steve was lucky if he made it through a visit without his throat feeling thick with tears as he had to re-meet Peggy again and again, and see the pain and sorrow in her eyes as she recognized him. Steve wasn't even sure that Peggy realized that he was real, and not a figment of her imagination, dreamt up from her bloody past of battle fields and front lines. 

There were good days, though. Sometimes, Steve would walk in the door, usually carrying a bouquet of flowers, and Peggy's eyes would light up with recognition. She would smile so brightly at him that his heart ached, and then she would eagerly gesture to the chair across the room from her bed. They would continue their conversations from his previous visit, and if Steve tried hard enough, he could nearly make himself believe that it was 1943 again, and he and Peggy were young, and he was in his uniform and she in hers, and they were dancing. They would twirl around the floor, bodies pressed close together, and say all of the words they'd held back for far too long. 

Then, Peggy would have a coughing fit, and Steve's eyes would jerk open, and the pleasant dream would vanish. His heart would feel with sorrow, and he would tell Peggy yet again that someday, they'd have that dance that he owed her. She would laugh weakly, and pat his hand, and tell him that she was far too old to be swung around a dance floor like a young woman. 

Steve would try to smile with Peggy, but his insides would churn with guilt. In truth, he had met someone: You. You were a beautiful girl in your twenties-- smart, vivacious, and lovely. You filled a hole in Steve that had existed long before the war, and you made him feel at peace with the world he now lived in. In a way, you reminded him of Peggy. Your strong-headed nature and iron-clad will made you infuriating and irresistible all at once, so much like the woman that Steve had loved so many years ago. 

Peggy knew about his new love, and in fact, was the one who encouraged Steve to pursue your relationship. When Steve had insinuated that he wasn't sure that he was ready for to be with someone, Peggy had lightly slapped him on the arm and told him to go after you before he lost his chance. She then reminded him, somewhat sadly, that she had lived a full life, and it was now his chance to live his. 

So, the very next day he had asked you out. You were working at Stark Industries as a lab tech when you met, but soon after, Tony Stark had recruited you to work as the head doctor of the Avengers' medical team. Steve had caught you after you finished a shift one day, and you had dinner that very same evening.

That had been seven months ago, and Steve was in love. He hadn't told you this yet, though, as he wasn't sure how. In his years of living, he'd only ever been in love with one other woman, and he hadn't had the guts to tell her how he felt until it was too late. 

Now, Peggy wanted to meet you. Steve had been stunned, of course, but Peggy had insisted on becoming acquainted with the woman who had stolen Steve's heart. It had taken several weeks on convincing on Peggy's part, and in the end, Steve couldn't deny his best girl anything that she wanted. 

So, he sat down with you one day, and he explained everything. He told you every last dark, dirty detail of the war, and of his best friend, Bucky, and the brilliant Agent Peggy Carter. He told you about the Howling Commandos, and the legacy that they'd left behind. He told you about coming face-to-face with Red Skull, an awful creature so much like the Adolf Hitler you learned about in the history books. 

After that night, you knew every detail of Steve Rogers' life, and you were ready to jump into his world, once and for all. 

 

NOVEMBER 2014

You weren't sure why you were so anxious, honestly. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Steve, who you had hardly ever seen nervous, was rocking back and forth on his heels, or that you were about to meet Agent Peggy Carter, co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D and badass World War II heroine. 

You'd heard stories about Agent Carter growing up from your brother, who'd been obsessed with Captain America and anything from that era as a child. He collected the action figures, read the comic books, and eagerly watched every television broadcast about his favorite superhero. Naturally, you had been drawn in, and you found yourself looking up to Agent Carter from the time that you were very young. In fact, you'd grown up having a picture of the woman tacked to the wall above your bed. 

So, when Steve asked you if you would accompany him to see Peggy a few weeks ago, you leaped at the opportunity. You were finally going to meet the woman who you'd admired for so many years... And who was also the almost-ex-girlfriend of the man that you were dating.

The ride over on Steve's motorcycle to the nursing facility that Peggy was staying it seemed to take hours. Your stomach was in knots as Steve parked the bike, and you tried to calm down your rapidly-beating heart. What would you say? What would Peggy say? What if she didn't think you were good enough for Steve?

Steve must have noticed your anxiety, because as he opened the door for you, he grabbed your hand in his and rubbed it soothingly with the back of his thumb. You smiled softly as you glanced down at your entwined hands, but the moment of peace vanished quickly. 

"Hi, ma'am. We're here to visit Ms. Peggy Carter," Steve said to the woman at the front desk. Without her having to ask, he signed both of you in on the sheet sitting on the desk. 

"First door on the left, honey," the older woman said kindly. "Enjoy your visit, and don't forget to sign out before you leave."

You followed Steve down the hallway into a small, brightly lit room. The walls were paneled with a deep wood, and there were paintings and other personal artifacts littered around the space. A bed was positioned in the middle of the room, and in it lay a grey-haired woman. Her eyes were half-closed, and for a second you feared that you had interrupted her sleeping. 

Then, her eyes opened, and a bright smile lit up her weathered face. "Oh, Steve," she croaked. "Do come in."

Steve's face melted into a soft smile, one that you usually caught him using when he looked at you. He crossed the room in three quick strides to stand at Peggy's side. He knelt down, kissed her forehead, and then settled into a chair next to her bed. 

"Hey, Peggy," Steve said. "I brought (Y/N) to meet you, just like you asked."

Peggy turned her head slightly, noticing you for the first time. She gestured for you to move into the room, and so you did, hands shaking. You stood before Peggy as she examined you, lips slightly pursed. 

Her face broke into a wide smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Steve hasn't shut up about you," Peggy laughed. "You're even lovelier than he described."

You blushed as you glanced at Steve. His face was a bright red, and he was trying to avoid meeting your gaze. You turned back to Peggy, attempting to formulate a coherent thought. 

"It's such an honor to meet you, Agent Carter. I grew up idolizing you, ma'am. I even had a picture of you tacked up above my bed," you babbled. "When Steve said you wanted to meet me, I couldn't believe it."

Peggy laughed again. "Please, call me Peggy. I'm afraid my days of traipsing around the country with S.H.I.E.L.D. are long over," she turned to Steve. "Steve, you never told me how sweet she was."

"C'mon, Peg, you're embarrassing me." Steve flushed again and reached down to squeeze Peggy's hand.

Peggy only raised her free hand, waving off Steve's complaints. "Oh, hush, Steve. Let an old woman have a little fun," Steve's face fell a little bit. "Would you mind getting me a glass of tea from the cafeteria?"

Steve nodded immediately and sprang to his feet. Once he was out of ear-shot, Peggy beckoned for you to come closer to her. You sat down in the chair that Steve had previously occupied, confused, as you waited for Peggy to speak.

"I'm glad he found you," Peggy said earnestly, voice barely above a whisper. "All of these years, thoughts of Steve and the life that he never got to life have eaten away at me, but now, I feel... A sense of peace, I suppose. When I was first told the news that they had recovered Captain America from the ice, I was stunned, and ecstatic, and completely and utterly heartbroken. I knew that the world he was waking up to was not the same one he left in 1945. I was scared beyond belief for him, and how he would react once he realized that practically everyone he knew was gone.

"The first day that Steve visited me, I still saw the good, brave man I met in Brooklyn all those years ago, but he was different. Broken-down, tired, lost. He's been different these past few months. When Steve first mentioned you to me, his eyes lit up, like how they used to when we were young." Peggy paused and smiled sadly. "He loves you very much, (Y/N). Please, do only good by him."

Tears were gathering in your eyes, and you reached over to squeeze the much older woman's hand gently. "Yes, ma'am," you said. "I do love him, a lot. I plan on spending the rest of my life with Steve Rogers, if the fates will have it."

Suddenly, as you said the words, you realized how true they were. Even though you and Steve had only been dating for a few months, you loved him more deeply than you had ever thought possible. When you thought about where you would be in five, ten, fifteen years, you hoped you would be at Steve's side. He was strong, and had a heart of gold, and was the most sensitive, intelligent man that you had ever met. You loved him.

"I have no doubt that you will live a long, wonderful life with him," Peggy said softly. "It's nice to know that Steve will be taken care of, that he'll have someone who understands when..." Peggy trailed off, but you didn't need her to finish her sentence to know what she meant.

You sat in silence for several minutes until Steve returned, a glass of tea for Peggy in one hand, and a latte in the other for you. Steve pulled up another chair beside you, casually taking your hand in his as you talked to Peggy. 

After an hour or two, the door opened and in came a young, blonde twenty-something nurse. She held a small tray of pill bottles and a glass of water in her hands. She smiled apologetically at you and Steve. "I'm sorry, Mr. Rogers and Ms. (Y/L/N), but visiting hours are almost over."

Steve stood up immediately. "Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am. We'll be out of your hair in just a moment." He leaned down and kissed Peggy's forehead softly and squeezed her hand. "I'll be back next week, Peg."

"Goodbye, Steve," Peggy said gently. "And (Y/N), it was lovely to finally meet you." She added.

You leaned down to gently hug the former-agent, and when you tried to pull away she held you back. She leaned close to your ear and whispered words that you would never forget. "Thank you, (Y/N). You have brought a great deal of peace to me today."

For a moment, your heart stopped. The pieces clicked into place, and you realized something. The medications on the tray, the way Peggy had told Steve "goodbye" instead of "see you soon", how she spoke of peace and finality...

Peggy Carter was dying.

Your chest was tight as you tried to gather your composure, and you felt tears stinging your eyes. You managed to croak out, "Of course. I promise you that I will protect him, come what may, Agent Carter."

Then, you released her, and you joined Steve by the door. You exchanged one last long, sorrow look with Peggy, and then the door closed, and then she was gone. You tightened your grip on Steve's arm as he silently led you out of the nursing home and into the streets of New York. You were just about to put on your motorcycle helmet when Steve stopped you. He pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his head against your shoulder.

You were momentarily stunned, and then you realized Steve must have caught the double-meaning of Peggy's words as well. The woman he'd loved for decades upon decades, the woman who'd given him a shot when he was nothing but a scrawny kid from Brooklyn, the woman who'd captured his heart so many years ago and who'd worn that red dress in that bar, she was dying. And after she was gone, the very last link to his old life would be gone as well.

"It'll be okay, Steve," you said, voice cracking on his name. "We'll get through this together, alright? I'll be here. I promised her that I'll be here."

You felt hot tears against your neck, and with a start you realized that Steve was crying. Your heart shattered right then and there into a million tiny splinters, and you felt suddenly the ache and pain that Steve must have been feeling since he first woke up on that day in 2011. You held him more tightly against you, and you wished with every once of your being that you could take his pain away.

But you couldn't. So, you settled for standing out there in the cold November chill, holding Steve Rogers as if your life depended on it. You stroked his hair, whispered soothing things in his ear, and eventually, the tears stopped. It was Steve's turn then, and he told you a hundred times, a million different ways, that he loved you. He promised to stay by your side as long as he lived, to love and cherish you, to be your equal in every was possible. He promised to protect you for all of eternity. 

And so did you. True to your word, you were standing at Steve's side, hand-in-hand, at Agent Peggy Carter's funeral just six days later.


	8. all this time.

summary: you and steve are obviously head over heels for each other, but you won't admit it. so, the team decides to step in.

word count: 1245

trigger warnings: none, just a fluff piece

____________________________________________________________________________________

Sneaky glances. Casual brushing of the hands. Beet-red faces. Awkward encounters. 

This basically summed up your and Steve's relationship over the past five months, and the team was sick of it. It was obvious to practically everyone but the two involved how crazy for each other you and Steve were. So, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Thor, and Tony hatched a plan to finally get you together. 

Tony's original idea was to lock both of you in what he called a "Avenger proof" reinforced steel closet until you agreed to admit your feelings, but the rest of the team feared that this would cause more harm than good and shot down the idea almost immediately. Instead, they decided to embarrass the hell out of you both until you finally admitted your feelings. 

After several days of preparation and meticulous planning, they were ready. The plan was that Thor would lure you into the tower's common space on the pretense of teaching him how to use the television (a skill that he'd mastered long ago), and then Natasha would conveniently come in with Steve, discussing tactics for your upcoming mission. Clint, Tony, and Bruce (who was very reluctant to go along with this plan) were to then come in, and Tony was going to flirt with you while Clint whispered to Steve about how Tony had a thing for you. And hopefully, that would rile Steve up enough to admit his feelings for you.

It was a complicated, possibly doomed plan, but it was the best one the team had. And besides, they fought monsters for a living. How difficult could it be to get two stubborn superheroes to convince their feelings for each other? 

And so the plan was put into action.

***

"Thor, I don't understand why you're making me do this," you whined, trying to tug your arm out of Thor's grip as he pulled you into the common room. "How long have you been coming to Earth now? And you're just finally figuring out how to use a television?"

Thor laughed and pulled you down next to him on one of the sofas. "Lady (Y/N), I do not have time for such simple Midgardian things!" He picked up the remote and started jabbing buttons at random. "Come to life, tiny moving box!"

You sighed and rubbed your temples. "Look, this is the power button, okay? You press it to turn the 'tiny moving box' on--"

Just then, Steve and Natasha walked into the room, heads buried in the tablet that Natasha was holding. She was murmuring to Steve in a low voice about something that you couldn't understand, but you assumed it had something to do with your upcoming mission.

Just then, Steve glanced up, and your eyes met. He blushed immediately and lowered his head, but you couldn't take your eyes off of him. He was honestly the most perfect human being you'd ever seen, if you were honest with yourself. Strong, kind, intelligent, handsome... And not to mention, about a hundred times out of your league. You sighed quietly to yourself and went back to assisting Thor.

Just a few minutes later, in walked Tony, Bruce, and Clint. Tony made a beeline for you, lightly shoving Thor out of the way so he could sit by you. You were confused, to say the least, because yes, you and Tony were good friends, but you didn't have much one-on-one interaction.

"Hey, doll, how're you doing today?" Tony asked you in a low voice, throwing his arm around your shoulder casually. 

You awkwardly smiled at him and tried to think of an adequate response. What was Stark playing at here?

"Um, fine, I suppose. I was packing for our mission until someone decided that it was time for another lesson in the world of humans," you looked across Tony to playfully glare at Thor. "How's yours been?"

Tony smirked. "Not gonna lie, it was pretty shitty until I saw your pretty little face."

You felt your cheeks turn hot as Tony spoke. You were definitely uncomfortable now, and the last thing you wanted was for Steve to see Tony flirting with you. Steve already only saw you as a friend, you didn't want to give him the impression you were taken on top of it all. 

On the other side of the room, Clint had casually joined Steve and Natasha's conversation, and carefully steered it in the direction of team gossip.

"So, have you noticed that little thing going on between Stark and (Y/N)?" Clint asked in a low tone, gesturing to you. From this angle, it looked like you were leaning into Tony's side, and your blush could have been mistaken as a sign of affection. "He's been all over her for weeks now."

Steve immediately stiffened, and Natasha had to resist smirking. "Is that so? I never took (Y/N) as the type of girl to buy into Tony's billionaire playboy deal. I think they'd be good together, though," she mused. "What do you think, Steve?"

Steve tore his eyes away from you and Tony and blinked at Natasha. He tried to think of something intelligent to say, but all that came to mind was the fact that he wanted to take Tony and throw him off the roof of the Avenger's tower--

"C'mon, (Y/N), why don't we go out tonight, huh? Just me and you. We can get Shawarma." Tony said, very loudly, with an exaggerated wink.

And Steve couldn't control himself anymore. It's like he was seeing red, and it was all he could do to not lift Tony by the front of his shirt and punch the hell out of him. Instead, he walked over to you and pulled you to your feet. 

"Actually, I was planning on asking (Y/N) out tonight, if she would do me the honor of taking her out for dinner." Steve said, and although his face was flaming, he kept his voice steady. 

Tony smirked and put both hands in the air as if he were surrendering. "Alright, alright. I can see where I'm not wanted. Whad'ya say, Banner? Me and you tonight, then?"

You didn't hear the rest of what Tony said, because now, you only had eyes and ears for Steve. He was staring down at you, breathing heavily, and it was all you could do to not kiss him full on the mouth right then and there. Instead, you opted to press a lingering kiss to his cheek.

"I would love to, Cap. I'll expect you at my door at 7:15 tonight, and not a second later. Am I understood?" You smirked playfully and laid a hand on Steve's arm. 

Steve looked at you dumb-founded for a moment, but he quickly recovered and grinned. "Yes, ma'am, 7:15 on the dot."

You smiled happily at him, but then a thought occurred to you. "Wait a second-- are you telling me that you've liked me all this time, and it took Tony flirting with me for you to admit it?"

Steve scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and blushed.

"Er, yeah, that's exactly what I'm telling you," he said sheepishly. "Better late than never, right?"

And you couldn't help yourself anymore. You leaned in and wrapped your arms around Steve's neck, oblivious to the fact that the entire time was smirking at you two, and that Tony was sure to give you hell for weeks, because you didn't care. Finally, after all this time, Steve Rogers was yours.


	9. captain. (pt. II)

summary: sequel to "captain". after a year's absence, Nick Fury has assigned you to work a mission with the avengers. you arrive to stark tower unsure of what to expect, or what your ex-love, steve rogers, will say when he sees you.

word count: 4025

trigger warnings: slightly graphic mentions of battle. angst. heartbreak. chaos.

a/n: here it is! the much-anticipated sequel to "captain", prepare yourselves.

____________________________________________________________________________________

It had over a year since your blow out fight with Steve. A year of pure pain. Pure agony. Pure rage. 

You thought that you would heal with time. That after a few weeks your silly post-breakup depression would go away, and you could move on with your life. That you could be happy without him. Oh, you were so very wrong. You missed Steve terribly, even though you were still furious with him. You couldn't go from being everything to strangers instantly, you knew. But it didn't explain why after a year you still felt like there was a gaping hole in your heart, slowly ripping your body apart at the seams. 

True to his word, Steve hadn't once tried to reach out to you. No phone calls, no texts, not even a second glance when you passed each other in the halls of the S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters. Nothing. It was as if you and Steve were nothing more than casual work acquaintances, and not long-time lovers who'd been on the verge of something even bigger. No, you were nothing more than two people who shared some memories, memories that you still held close to your heart even after all this time.

Since the day you'd ended things with Steve, you had been filling your days with more missions. You were gone constantly, in fact, and couldn't even remember the last time you'd slept in your own bed for more than a night or two. You found that the constant overload of work, helping people, saving lives, kept your mind at bay. During these missions, Steve never once crossed your mind. 

Until now.

Nick Fury, for some ungodly reason, had decided to assign you to a case with the Avengers. You'd worked with Clint and Natasha on separate occasions many times these past several months, and you still kept in contact with Tony, but you hadn't seen the rest of the Avengers during those times. You had no idea how they were going to react, and most importantly, if you'd be able to concentrate with Steve so near you on the battle field.

You were standing outside the big glass doors to the Avengers tower like a moron, trying to gather the courage to go inside. It had been so long since you'd been here, but somehow, it still felt like just yesterday that Steve and you had made the big decision to move into his wing of the tower together. For the first time in over a year, you felt like you were home.

Still shaking slightly, you pushed open one of the glass doors and signed in with the receptionist, a young, pretty blonde girl who's name you couldn't quite remember. 

"Ms. (Y/L/N)!" she looked surprised, but quickly turned her expression into one of professionalism. "It's wonderful to see you. How are you?"

You distractedly smiled at her as you signed your name on the line she indicated. "I'm fine..." A name flashed through your mind. "...Lily. How are you?"

Lily seemed pleased that you remembered her after so long. "I'm doing well. Ms. Potts has been keeping me busy lately, she's training me to be her personal assistant!" 

"That's great to hear, Lily. I hope everything works out for you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I better go on up, or else the Captain will have my head--"

You froze. Just being back at this place, seeing the familiar walls and inhaling the familiar scent, made you go back to a head-space of a year before. You weren't the same woman who walked out of that gym those many months ago, and you would do well to remember that once you were in the presence of your old teammates. 

Lily laughed awkwardly and shuffled around a few papers on your desk. "Thank you, Ms. (Y/L/N)," you began to walk away when Lily called out to you. "Oh, Mr. Stark wants you to meet him and the others on the roof. The Quinjet is ready."

"Thanks again, Lily," you smiled at the blonde girl. "I'll see you around."

You pressed the "up" button on the elevator and stepped inside. Once the doors closed, you let your smile fall and ran a shaky hand through your hair. This was it. Just a couple more floors before you saw the group of people you more-or-less had abandoned for the past year.

"Mr. Stark and the rest of the team are already on the quinjet, Ms. (Y/L/N)," the voice of JARVIS startled you out of your thoughts. "Good luck today."

"Thanks, JARVIS." You said quietly, and then stepped out of the elevator and into the blinding sunlight. 

The quinjet was roaring, meaning that you were the last one to arrive. You stepped inside the jet and were instantly met with the faces of your old teammates. Everyone was silent for a moment, taking you in, and then Tony jumped to his feet.

"My, my, as I live and breathe! (Y/F/N/L/N) back from the dead!" Tony grinned and pulled you in for a tight hug. His lips came to your ear, whispering quietly enough so only you could hear his words. "It's good to have you back, kid. We all missed you."

The rest of the team greeted you in a similar fashion, and soon, there was only Steve left to acknowledge. He had awkwardly hovered behind Bruce for several moments before pulling you into a fleeting, one-armed hug. 

"It's nice to see you, Agent (Y/L/N). I hope you're doing well." Steve said stiffly. 

You nodded curtly, staring him straight in the eyes. "I've been fine, Captain Rogers. The same to you."

Steve muttered something about checking up on some last-minute coordinates before disappearing into a corner of the jet. Natasha pulled you with her back to her seat, asking about a hundred questions a minute.

"So, are you seeing anyone?" Natasha asked.

You froze, as did everyone else on the quinjet. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat and picked at a lose thread on your uniform. You had two options: lie, and say that you were in a relationship, or admit that you hadn't seen anyone since Steve.

"Not right now, no," you said carefully. "I really don't have time for a relationship." Natasha shot you an apologetic look, realizing the awkward position she'd put you in.

"Hey, look at that, we're nearly there." Tony said hurriedly. 

You looked out of the front of the quinjet, and sure enough, the green, rolling hills of Ireland were coming into view. Your mission was a simple one: invade the alleged HYDRA base located deep in the Ireland countryside, take out as many soldiers as possible, and recover intelligence for S.H.I.E.L.D use.

"Game plan, Cap?" Clint called as he finished loading his quiver with arrows.

Steve rose from his seat and joined you and Tony in the cockpit of the jet. "Myself and Thor will take the base from the front. That's the area where they're most heavily armed, so we should be able to distract a good amount of the soldiers. Clint, I want you to find a high place and stay there. Take out the soldiers on the upper decks of the fortress. Bruce, stay here and keep the jet ready to fly, unless we need a Code Green. Tony, take the sky. There's an entrance on the roof and you should be able to get it open. Once you're inside, head straight for the labs, no detours. Get the intel we need, and get out. (Y/N) and Natasha, I want you both to hit them from the back. If you find a way in, take it. Tony will need all the help he can get once he's inside," Steve paused and looked at everyone in turn. "Let's make this trip as quick as possible."

Everyone nodded solemnly and began preparing themselves for landing. You were loading a 9 mm pistol and attaching it to a holster on your belt when Steve took a seat next to you.

"(Y/N)," Steve took a deep breath. His earlier coldness was gone, replaced with something that could only be described as pain. "I'm so--"

You stood up quickly. "Not now, Steve. We've got far more important things to focus on right now than our silly drama. Come on, it's time to go."

Steve looked taken aback, but still, he followed you out of the quinjet and into the fresh, cool Ireland countryside. Tony had landed the jet in a large, sprawling field surrounded by trees. It was the perfect cover, or at least the most inconspicuous place to hide a large aircraft in the middle of nowhere.

"Just on the other side of those trees is the HYDRA fortress. We should be able to get the jump on them as long as we're careful," Steve said. You began trudging through the small patch of woods, following closely behind Natasha. "Natasha, (Y/N), once we get out I want you both to--"

What Steve wanted you to know, you would never find out. Because just then, a swarm of HYDRA soldiers burst through the line of trees and immediately began firing. The entire team sprang into action. 

As you watched, Steve threw his shield in a neat arc, causing three soldiers to go flying. Thor was swinging his hammer every which way, and Natasha had a pistol in each hand, firing round after round. Tony had disappeared into the sky, trying to salvage what was left of the Captain's carefully thought-out plan. Clint was gone as well, perched in a tree somewhere far above your heads, taking meticulous aim and shooting down soldier after soldier.

You went for the 9 mm strapped to your waist that you'd only finished loading moments before and began firing at those closest to you. You moved backwards, trying to find some sort of cover for yourself. You ducked behind a large tree to reload your pistol and jammed a finger against the comm in your ear. 

"What the hell is going on, Cap? What's our next move?" You yelled, trying to be heard over the gunfire. 

"There's no need to scream, (Y/N), we can all hear you perfectly fine. Save that for the bedroom," Tony replied snarkily. 

You bit your tongue in an effort not to scream. You were extremely out of your element right now, as it had been over a year since you'd been out in the field. You hadn't fired a weapon in months, and the last time you engaged in hand-to-hand combat, you had no idea. Every mission you'd worked in the past year had been strictly recon or citizen evacuation. You hadn't felt blood on your hands for a long, long time. 

"Shut up, Stark," Steve said. "(Y/L/N), meet me at the back of the fortress. Romanoff issued a Code Green; Banner's on his way. They're going to handle things here, along with Thor and Barton."

You didn't answer, instead stealthily rolling out from behind your rock and shooting the two soldiers who had been following you. You looked around wildly for a way to the back of the fortress. It seemed to be a straight shot from where you were to there, but you had to avoid the soldiers--who were now very aware of your presence--pacing the upper levels of the castle. 

You quickly thought through your options and decided to make a quick dash for the wall of the fortress. A shower of bullets followed you, but then quickly stopped. On instinct, you looked up to the trees above you and saw Clint, bow in hand. You mouthed a quick "thank you" to him before continuing on, hugging the wall as close as you could.

You reached the back perimeter of the fortress without much difficulty, thanks to Clint. Steve had been right; there were only about ten or so guards watching the back half of the fortress, and they looked to be not as heavily armed as the guards at the front. 

"(Y/L/N?) (Y/L/N), where are you?" Steve's voice crackled over the comm.

"By the wall to the right, Cap," you whispered. "Ten or so guards in sight. Barton took out most on the upper levels. Guards seem to have a rifle in hand, two pistols in holsters, and a few sheathed knives."

"I'm seeing eleven from here," Steve said. "you were right on the weapons count, though."

"Damn," you muttered, "I'm losing my touch."

"Such a shame, too," Steve teased. There was a brief pause, followed by an awkward grunt. "Er, go in on three. Aim to injure, not kill. Fury wants a few to take back for questioning."

"Got it. On my count, then?" Steve didn't respond, so you took his silence as a yes. "Three... Two... One..."

You flew around the corner of the fortress, a pistol in each hand, and started shooting. Immediately, you brought two soldiers down with single shots to the leg. Steve had already knocked out four others, and he was engaged in combat with a fifth. The soldier was firing an assault rifle at Steve, but he managed to dodge every bullet. 

Suddenly, you saw it. One of the soldiers you shot in the leg managed to prop himself up, and he was now taking aim at Steve from behind. There wasn't enough time to warn him, wasn't enough time for him to react. 

So, you did. You ran forward and knocked Steve to the ground. Upon hitting the ground, you let out a quiet "oomph" and rolled over. Steve threw his shield at the rogue gunman, sending him flying backwards and landing in a heap beneath a tree. Then, he turned to you, and his face went pale.

"Steve? What--?" you tried to reach for your pistol, but then you noticed the blood dripping from your body, and the stinging began. Your catsuit was torn at the waist, and blood was seeping through the tight fabric. There was an obvious gaping hole in your abdomen, and that's when you realized something. You'd been shot.

"(Y/N), you're losing a lot of blood," Steve paused to rip a piece off of the sleeve of his suit with his teeth. "I'm going to get you out of here, okay? Just stay awake."

Even as Steve spoke, you felt your eyes becoming heavy. Your body was starting to throb painfully now that the adrenaline was wearing off, and even more blood was seeping through the tourniquet Steve had just tied over your bullet wound.

The world was starting to go black around the edges when Steve disappeared from your line of sight. You heard the sound of a scuffle, a few grunts, and then Steve was beside you again, face alight with worry. 

"Shit," he mumbled. "Stark, how much longer is this going to take? (Y/N) got shot, she's losing a lot of blood here. We need to get her to Doctor Cho as soon as possible."

You heard Natasha's frantic voice reply over the comm. "I'm in with Tony, we're processing data now. We'll be five minutes, tops. Just hold on, Cap."

"Make it two," Steve said tersely.

Then, he looked at you, and his gaze immediately softened. Your eyes met for a long, silent moment, and in that instant, you both knew. You knew it was going to take too long to get to Doctor Cho. You knew you'd lost too much blood. You knew that no one, not even Captain America, could save you.

"Steve," you coughed, and when you moved your hand away from your mouth, it was covered with blood. "I'm so sorry--"

"Shh, it's okay. I forgave you a long time ago, doll," Steve said thickly. He began softly stroking your hair, gently pulling you across his lap. "I missed you, so much. I'm so, so sorry for everything that I said and did, (Y/N). You're the greatest woman I've ever known, and I would never, ever want you to be someone you're not, not for me."

By now, tears had gathered in your eyes, and they weren't from pain. "I forgive you, Steve," you smiled gently. "And I want you to promise me something."

"Anything for my best girl." Steve tried to smile back at you, but it came out more like a grimace. 

"Promise me that if I don't pull through," Steve opened his mouth to retort, but you kept going. "Don't give me that look, Steve. We both know it's possible that I won't. But promise me that if I do die, that you'll move on. You won't regret this year we spent apart. You'll find a girl, whisk her off her feet, and you'll marry her. You're going to have beautiful blue eyed, blonde haired kids. You'll live a beautiful life with your family, and you'll be happy. But you damn well better not forget about me. Tell your kids about me, and our story. Tell them about the girl and the boy who loved each other too much to bear. Tell them how they fought each other blindly, out of love. Tell them how they would die for each other. Tell them how she did. How she died for love, and their future."

Steve was crying now and hugging you close to his chest. "You're not dying today, (Y/N), not on my watch. You're going to be living that apple pie life right there beside me, doll. Those kids are going to look just like you, and they're going to be beautiful."

Your vision was becoming blurry again, and your limbs strangely heavy.... but also light, all at the same time. You offered Steve a small, weak smile, and managed to push four more words past your quivering lips. "I love," you coughed. "--you Steve."

Steve shut his eyes and took a deep breath before answering you. He lowered himself to your height and pressed a shaky kiss to your forehead. "I love you, (Y/N). Always have, always will."

You pressed your lips together in a thin smile, coughed once more, and then the world went black. You felt nothing more. 

 

ONE YEAR LATER

"It's time, Steve," Natasha said softly. She laid a hand on Steve's arm, but the super-soldier shrugged her off.

"Nat, I can't," Steve said thickly. Tears were brimming in his eyes. "If I do this, she's... She's really gone. I can't let her go."

Natasha, who hadn't cried, or even come close to crying in several years, felt hot tears sliding down her cheeks. She hurriedly wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. "She wouldn't want you to keep holding on like this, Steve. (Y/N)'s been dead for a year, and nothing can change that. We owe it to her to spread her ashes, just like she said to. She deserves that much."

Natasha locked eyes with Clint, silently instructing him to tell Tony to start taking the quinjet down. The entire team--with the exception of Thor--had gathered together to spread your ashes over the ocean, as per your instructions found on a napkin locked up in Tony's safe. You hadn't written a will, or gave any inclination on what you wanted done with your body as you took your final breaths, so the team had taken that napkin as your final will and testament.

Steve had been putting off this day for months, though Natasha and Bruce had been trying to push him towards it. He had made excuses at first, saying that you didn't like warm weather, so your ashes couldn't be spread in June, or that he hadn't found an urn suitable enough for you. Finally, though, Natasha had to put her foot down. The team needed closure as much as Steve did. 

"We'll be over coasting over the Atlantic in three and a half minutes. Everyone ready?" Tony asked dully. He especially hadn't been the same since you died, having been an older-brother figure to you for many years. The sparkle in his eyes had dulled, and there hadn't been a party lighting up the Stark Tower in ages.

Steve looked to Natasha, and then the gold urn sitting in his lap, and he stood up. "Yeah, Tony, we're ready."

The group huddled around the quinjet's exit as Tony let FRIDAY take the controls. The aircraft slowed to a crawl as the door slowly opened, exposing the team to the chilling December air. Steve handed the urn to Natasha, who was going to speak first. 

"(Y/N)," Natasha began quietly. "You know I'm not one for emotional shit, but you were a damn good agent, and an even better friend. Thank you for trying to know me, even after I pushed you away, time and time again. Thank you for having a heart of gold." In truth, Natasha had about a million other things she wanted to say, but she couldn't bring herself to utter the words. Instead, she stared up at the open sky above, and hoped that somehow, somewhere, you were hearing her unspoken thoughts. 

Tony was next, and he wiped fresh tears from his eyes before taking the urn from Natasha. "I miss you, kid, and I don't know how else to say that. I miss you so fucking much that it hurts. It's not fair that you're gone. You were so young, so good... You had an entire life to live. I would trade places with you in a second if it meant that you got to live your life."

There was silence for several moments as everyone sniffled and wiped their eyes, silently agreeing with Tony's words. Any one of them would have gladly laid down their life for you, the twenty-two year old girl with a bright smile and an even brighter future. Clint, who was next in line, passed on speaking, too overcome with grief to do much more than hold the urn briefly before handing it off to Bruce. 

"You were such a beautiful, intelligent girl, (Y/N)," Bruce began quietly. "You didn't deserve this, not at all. Thank you for giving the green guy as much of a chance as you gave me. I hope you find peace and happiness, wherever you are."

Finally, it was Steve's turn to speak. He held the urn that he had so painstakingly picked out in his hands as he stared out across the ocean, a faraway look in his eyes.

"(Y/N)," Steve murmured. "I should have never let you go, and I'll regret that until the day that I die and join you once again. I've loved you since the first day I laid eyes on you, and I will forever remember you, and the way you lived your entirely too short life. I'll remember how you laughed at the sad parts during movies, and how you once beat up a guy at a bar for trying to pick you up. I'll remember how you made me feel like a normal person, and how you accepted me, flaws and all. You'll always be my very best girl, and nothing will ever change that. I love you, (Y/N), always have, and I always will."

Then, in one fluid motion, Steve unscrewed the top of the urn and let the contents drift lazily through the air into the deep blue ocean below. After a moment's pause, he tossed the urn into the water, and you were really, truly gone. 

Natasha pulled Steve against her, trying her best to keep her composure enough to comfort Steve. Tony had at some point sank to the ground, shaking, with his head in his hands. Bruce was still standing, staring blankly out into the ocean, and Clint had retreated to a far corner of the aircraft to grieve privately. The door to the jet clanged shut with a sort of finality, and darkness fell over the space.

It would always be dark, Natasha suddenly realized, because the sun had died a year ago. The light, everything good and pure in this godforsaken world, it was dead, and it was never coming back. Silent tears fell down Natasha's cheeks as she held Steve against her, and she could only hope that somehow, some way they'd survive this.


	10. take the lead.

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  
summary: requested by anonymous [exact wording edited] “Could you write where Steve & reader are dating. She’s a team member, they get in a fight & she doesn’t cry, but is mad, & leaves. A year later a sad Steve finds her & she’s a badass leader of a dangerous group but isn’t evil, they do similar work to the Avengers.”  
word count: 2561  
trigger warnings: language (of course) and some angst  
a/n: sorry it took so long, love! i wrote some characters i haven’t had much experience writing, apologies if they are terrible and ooc!  
______________________________________________________________________________

“What the hell was that back there, (Y/N)? You nearly got Natasha killed!” Steve shouted, following behind you down the hall.  
You chose to ignore him, instead picking up your pace in the hopes of losing him. Steve was a super-soldier, though, and easily caught up to you. You turned your face away from him, trying to avoid catching a glimpse of his angry, judgmental blue eyes.  
You had made a mistake on your latest mission in Germany, that was obvious to anyone. But you had been thinking from your heart when you dove back into the battle to save the small girl hiding in an alley, not from your head. You didn’t consider the fact that you were unarmed, severely outnumbered, and that you were endangering people other than yourself. Natasha had run after you, and as a result she’d been shot in the side. Thankfully, it was purely a superficial wound, and Doctor Cho was able to heal her within minutes.  
“Goddammit, (Y/N), turn around and listen to me!” Steve growled, reaching out and grabbing your arm. He jerked you around, forcing you to meet his gaze.  
You couldn’t contain your temper anymore, and the harsh words you’d been holding back came pouring out. “I can hear you perfectly fine, Captain,” you began. “And I can tell you that I don’t like a single thing that I’m hearing. I don’t care that you’re my boyfriend, I don’t care that you’re my S.O. You will not speak to me like I am incompetent, or unprofessional, or anything less than you are. Do you understand me?”  
Steve looked momentarily shocked, but then anger took over his features. He took a step forward so that you were nose-to-nose. If you hadn’t been so furious, you would have been distracted by those pink lips and bright blue eyes so close to you.  
“You know, when Fury put you on this team, I thought you took an oath to protect citizens, to protect your team. I thought you vowed to follow orders and do what is best for the world. It seems like I was wrong.” Steve spat.  
You narrowed your eyes slightly. “The last time I checked, I was running into open-fire to save an innocent little girl. She couldn’t have been more than what, eight? Nine? And you wanted me to just leave her there? I’m sure Nat would gladly give up her life for a child… And I thought you would too.”  
Steve’s face was turning an ugly shade of red as he stared at you. The look in his eyes was far-away, distant… He didn’t look like the Steve Rogers you knew and loved.  
“If you are doubting my ability to lay down my life for an innocent, (Y/N),” Steve said in a deadly-soft voice. “Then you’d better find yourself a new team.”  
You recoiled like Steve had slapped you. You would have preferred it if he did, though. Seeing his disappointment, his sadness, it burned deep inside of you. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him win.  
“Perhaps I will, Steve,” you said. “This is a big world we live in. We could always use some more heroes.”

ONE YEAR LATER

“Are you kidding me?” You mumbled, flipping through the pages of the newspaper. “‘The Avengers, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes Save New York!’ When is somebody going to tell those jackasses who write the Times that the Avengers aren’t behind any of these latest ‘acts of heroism’?” You slammed the newspaper down onto the table and sighed.  
Wade Wilson, also known as mercenary Deadpool, took a bite out of a God-knows how old chimichanga and moaned before responding. “Maybe it’s because we don’t even have a superhero gang name,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food. “Ya know, that’s why they have a movie and we don’t.”  
You shot Wade a confused look from over the top of your coffee mug, but you chose to ignore his strange comments. You were used to the more-than-slightly eccentric man saying weird things after nearly a year of working with him and Peter Parker. You’d formed your small, eclectic team after meeting Peter through a dear friend of yours, Gwen Stacy, who had in turn introduced you to Wade. Now, a year later, you were cleaning up the frequent messes that The Avengers had created, all while trying to hide the fact that you were a former-member of the team.  
You glanced down at your watch and saw that it was a quarter to ten. “We need to get going, Wade,” you stuffed the rest of your danish into your mouth. “Peter’s probably already waiting for us.”  
Wade followed suit, lifting his mask to shove the chimichanga into his mouth. “Let’s roll out, bitches, my Spidey’s waiting for me!”  
You rolled your eyes and placed your hands on your hips. “Seriously, Wade?”  
He turned around. “Oh, yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Let’s roll out, bitches, our Spidey’s waiting on us!”  
Wade then skipped out the door and to your car, whistling what sounded like some Disney song loudly as he went. You closed your eyes and rubbed at your temples, trying to prepare yourself for an hour-long car ride with Wade. It wasn’t going to be pretty. 

“Thank god we’re finally here,” you groaned, quickly hugging Peter. “Wade, for some ungodly reason, had a CD of the top one hundred pop hits of the seventies that he insisted on playing the entire ride here.”  
“You’re a strong woman, (Y/N),” Peter laughed.  
Peter slung his arm around your shoulder and followed you back to your car, where Wade was still blaring “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye. You chose to ignore him and instead went around to your trunk, pulling out a large blueprint of a warehouse.  
“Okay, so right here is the front entrance,” you gestured to the prints in front of you. “But we obviously can’t go in there. So, the plan is, I’ll take this one here in the back, and you’ll come in from the right. Wade’s going to take out as many guards as possible and hopefully cause a big enough distraction that you and I can get to the control room and cut off the power. Once that’s done, we take the files we need, restore power long enough to wipe their system, and bada bing bada boom, we’re out.” You finished.  
Peter nodded along as you spoke. “Sounds good, (Y/N). Our only problem is the Avengers. I’ve heard that they’ve caught wind of the operation going down here and are coming in sometime soon.”  
You clenched your jaw, trying to put a lid on the Steve Rogers box in your mind. You had done your best to forget about him this past year, along with the rest of your old life. You’d made peace, in a way, with the decision that you’d made to start your own team. You were able to take the lead in ways that Steve had never let you, and you were finally free of the government breathing down your neck.  
“Then we just have to beat them there, don’t we?” You said calmly.  
Peter grinned, confirming that like always, he was with you. Wade had finally shut off his disco tracks and had joined you and Peter at the trunk of your car, and as you looked at the two men standing in front of you, thoughts of Steve seemed to magically fade away. You were at home here, with these two idiots who’d for some reason chosen to follow you. 

“Ready, Wilson?” You murmured into the communicator on your wrist. The comms were a piece of technology that you’d swiped from Stark Industries before you’d left, and they’d come in handy many times over the course of the past year. Most of the time, though, Wade insisted on not wearing his, telling you that he liked to make a dramatic entrance and the last thing he needed was you invading his head as well, whatever that meant.  
You heard a loud clanging noise, and then the unmistakable sound of bullets being fired. “Fuck yeah, baby! Oh, shit, (Y/N), this guy just pissed his pants! Hold on a sec, I’m gonna take a picture.” Wade snickered.  
You groaned impatiently, momentarily forgetting that you were supposed to be being quiet. “Nevermind, Wade. Parker, you there?”  
There was a slight crackling noise, and then Peter’s voice came over the comm. “Yeah, (Y/L/N), I’m ready. Wilson’s seemed to have taken out almost all of the guards. We’re good to go.”  
You jumped from your perch on top of a storage crate onto the ground, glancing around the large room as you began jogging across the floor. The only sound you heard was that of your heels clicking against the ground, and you were almost to the door--  
You were shoved to the ground by an unknown force, effectively knocking the breath out of you. You struggled to roll over, and when you finally did, you were met with familiar striking red hair and bright green eyes. The Avengers had arrived, you realized, and Natasha Romanoff had been the first to find you.  
“(Y/N)?” Natasha asked incredulously. “What the hell are you doing here?” She released her grip on you, allowing you to roll out from beneath her and get to your feet.  
You winced slightly at the pain in your side, knowing that you were to have a bruise the next day. “It’s a long story, Tash, and I promise I’ll tell you later, but we’ve got much more important things going on right now.”  
Natasha was still eyeing you suspiciously, but nevertheless she followed you to the door that led into the control room of the warehouse. You reached for the handle, expecting to have to pick the lock, but it swung open at your touch.  
“Shit, (Y/N), I should tell you that S--” Natasha began, but you had already caught sight of the man sitting in front of the control panels.  
Steve Rogers whirled around at the sound of Natasha’s voice, and when he saw you, his face went pale. He seemed to be in shock, but then anger settled across his face. Only then did you notice the heavy dark circles under Steve’s eyes, and the way his mouth seemed to be etched into a permanent frown. To put it simply, Steve looked like hell.  
“(Y/N)...” Steve took several steps towards you, almost as if he wasn’t sure if you were real. “Why are you here?”  
You set your shoulders and took a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together. You moved past Steve into the room and began pressing buttons and typing commands into the control panel. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but you could feel Steve and Natasha’s eyes burning holes into the back of your head.  
“I work with Wade Wilson and Peter Parker now,” you glanced over your shoulder to see confusion on both of the Avenger’s faces. “Deadpool and Spider-Man,, I mean. We’re a team.”  
You finally entered in the final code, and the power shut off in the room, and hopefully, the rest of the building as well. You pressed a button on the cuff of your suit--yet another stolen piece of Stark Industries equipment--and a bright line shone out of it. You held your arm out, illuminating the faces of Steve and Natasha.  
“Hey, Peter, Wade, we’ve got company.” You said lowly.  
Peter was the first to answer. “Yeah, (Y/N), I think we kind of figured that out when Tony Stark burst through a window and nearly blasted my ass off.”  
You quickly stifled your laughter. “I’m sorry, Peter. Have you gotten to the intelligence room yet?”  
There was several seconds of static before Peter responded. “Yeah, that Hawkeye guy is helping me gather everything we need and wipe the systems. He’s pretty cool, but shorter than I pictured-- ow!” You heard the sound of Clint muttering something in the background, and you pictured him elbowing Peter in the side. “He says hi,” Peter said, slightly pained-sounding.  
“Tell him I say hey,” you smiled softly. “I’m heading your way now, I’ve got Black Widow and Captain America with me. Do you have eyes on Wade--”  
“Shit, (Y/N), that Thor guy knocked the shit out of me with that hammer! I mean, I was already spellbound by his luscious locks, but he literally made me shit myself in the middle of the weapons chamber--”  
You cut Wade off, not needing to know the gory details of his little accident. “Finish up whatever you’re doing and find Peter, alright?.” You turned to Steve and Natasha, finding them both staring at you expectantly. “Um, I’ve got to go. See you in a few.”  
“Listen, guys,” you began, biting down on your bottom lip. “I’m sorry for cutting off contact, but I needed some time off.”  
“‘Time off’?” Steve said incredulously. “This doesn’t look like time off to me (Y/N). This looks like you forming your own team to go against us.”  
Your mouth dropped open, and you were thankful for the darkness in the room. “My team and I have been cleaning up your messes for the past year! In the aftermath of what happened in New York, where were you? Peter, Wade, and I were the ones out on the streets helping citizens, rebuilding lives! You can sure as hell save the world, Steve, I can’t deny that, but you always seem to forget about those caught in the crossfire..” You said, and you hadn’t noticed, but Natasha had slipped out of the room sometime during your speech.  
Steve sighed deeply, and he seemed to lose his will to fight. “You’re right, (Y/N). You were right during every one of our fights. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way after the mission in Germany. I was so damn wrong, and what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry, (Y/N).”  
You realized suddenly that you didn’t want to fight anymore either. It was exhausting, being constantly angry and hurt. You wanted to put your issues with Steve behind you and move on.  
‘I’m sorry too, Steve, for some of the things I said and did,” you began. “But that doesn’t change the fact that this is my life now. I’m with Peter and Wade for the long haul. They’re the closest thing I have to family, at this point. What can I say? They’re my boys.”  
Suddenly, the lights came back on, and you realized that Natasha must have overridden your controls from another access point in the building. You could now see Steve’s face, and the sadness in his eyes.  
“I understand, (Y/N). But...” he hesitated. “Do you want to grab coffee or dinner or something sometime this week? You know, start over?”  
You smiled then, because Steve was looking at you the way he had the first time he’d asked you out all those years ago. “Yes, Steve, I would love that.”  
And deep down you knew that you and Steve could make this work, because he was once again the man you had fallen in love with. Your Steve, with his bright eyes and electric smile, he was back.


	11. waiting.

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

summary: You and Steve are best friends, and after a long mission, you don't hear anything from the team. You begin to worry, and when he returns, you admit your feelings for him.

word count: 1318

trigger warnings: angsty angsty angst.

a/n: I wrote this forever ago, so it’s really not my best.  
____________________________________________________________

They still weren't back.

You anxiously paced up and down in front of the floor-to-ceiling window at the top of the Avengers Tower, but it didn't help. Nothing could ease the growing tension inside your body, nothing but seeing Steve Rogers burst through the doors, safe and well.

Pepper had spent countless hours-- days, actually-- offering you food, drinks, and anything else you could desire in a calming manner, but you could tell that even she was beginning to worry as well. Over the years she'd grown used to Tony disappearing for long periods of time, but never like this. There'd been radio silence from the Avengers team for nearly three days.

Under any other circumstances, you would have gone about your day normally, but with the Avengers latest mission at such high stakes, that was nearly impossible. All you could think about was Steve-- and the others, of course-- and making sure that he was okay. You'd taken sick days off from your job at the hospital, even, because you really couldn't trust yourself to give vaccines to people when you were worried to death about Captain America's well-being.

Steve and you had been friends for years. You had met Steve through Pepper, who once upon a time you'd worked with at a little agency on the Upper East Side. You ran into her again one day, and you grew close. Naturally she introduced you to Tony, and along with that you were introduced to his rather "unusual" lifestyle and friends.

After your first awkward meeting with the avengers, you and Steve had hit it off almost instantly, becoming fast friends and damn near inseparable. Over the years your bond had strengthened even more, and you couldn't go a day without at least speaking to him. It was just friendship, though, as you had always assured yourself. Steve lived too chaotic of a life for romance and you were okay with that. His friendship was enough.

Pepper had rejoined you at your spot by the window, and she now laid her hand gently on your shoulder. "(Y/N), I'm sure they'll be back soon," Her voice was reassuring, but her eyes told a completely different story.

"Yeah, I know that I'm just being silly and paranoid, but it's just... Steve has never gone this long without calling," The minute the words were out of your mouth, you regretted them, due to the knowing look on Pepper's face and the smirk on her lips. "I mean, I'm just worried about everyone, that's all." You quickly added.

"You and I both know that's complete bullshit, (Y/N). I can tell how much Steve and you care for each other, and it's a lot more than friendship. Every time he looks at you, it's like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. He loves you, you know."

Pepper smiled kindly at you as she spoke and squeezed your shoulder before going back into the kitchen. You stared at her, mouth wide open, and tried to comprehend what she'd just said.

There was no way that Steve loved you as anything more than a best friend, and you'd made your peace with that. But what if--? You couldn't let your mind go to that place. If you did, you'd ruin everything. But you had to know for sure. You had to look, really look, at the way he acted the next time he saw you.

There was a possibility, though, that there would never be a next time. It had been three days, and a lot could happen in that amount of time. The team could have been captured, or lost, or worse, they could be--

Then, you saw it.

Your gaze had drifted downward to the streets below, and there they were. Five men and one woman, all striding up to the front doors of the building, and even from this distance you could tell that they were all injured.

"They're here!" You shouted, not waiting for Pepper as you rushed down the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

You flew down the final flight of stairs, breathing heavily and practically panting, just as the Avengers entered the building. Natasha, Bruce, and Clint all filed past you, smiling tiredly and murmuring greetings. You returned all of them hastily, but in truth, you only had eyes for one man.

Tony pulled you into a quick but tight hug before heading over to Pepper, who had sensibly waited for the elevator. You were almost sure you heard Tony mutter something along the lines of, "It's about damn time", but you chose to ignore it.

Then, Steve was in front of you, and everything else seemed to fade away. You forgot that everyone was watching, and that you were sure to be teased mercilessly later, but you practically ran into Steve's arms. He caught you instantly, and after what seemed like an eternity you pulled out of his embrace.

You tore your embarrassed gaze away from Steve's chest, and instead chose to refocus on his eyes. Almost immediately you noticed something. Despite the fact that he was completely coated in layers upon layers of blood and dirt, and he was quite obviously limping, his eyes were radiating something that could only be described as pure and simple joy (love?).

And you couldn't deny your feelings any longer. They came flooding out from behind the dam you'd so carefully constructed to protect yourself. You pressed your lips to Steve's once, and after a few seconds of pure terror on your part, he responded.

The kiss was short and sweet, mostly due to the fact that Tony was cat-calling and laughing behind you. When you broke apart, you stared up at Steve breathlessly, now fully examining him for injuries.

"How did it go, Cap?" you asked, running your eyes quickly up and down Steve's fit body, as if nothing had just happened.

You could only locate one injury on Steve-- his limping foot-- which was rather impressive given the looks of him. There were scratches and bruises all along his face and neck, and splatters of blood coated his uniform. His hair was mussed and there were deep circles underneath his eyes.

"Not good," and then you noticed the set of Steve's jaw and the tension in his brow. "We lost a lot of people."

"Steve," you began stroking his hair softly, just like you did after every awful mission the Avengers went on. You were now all-too aware of your audience, so you chose your words carefully. "I'm so sorry. I'm sure you did everything you could."

"I know. It's just so damn hard."

Steve looked as if he was going to collapse from exhaustion at any moment. So, you decided to take control, and led him past your friends (careful to ignore Tony's not-so-subtle wink in your direction) into the elevator.

"Where to?" You asked him gently. You squeezed Steve's hand, hoping to reassure him.

"My quarters. You'll stay tonight, won't you?" Steve looked at you with hopeful eyes, and you couldn't resist those baby blues of his.

It had become sort of a tradition that whenever Steve would return from a long mission, you would stay the night together. Nothing happened, of course. You and Steve would just stay up until the Sun rose the next morning, talking about anything and everything, until Steve drifted off to sleep and you slipped away.

"Of course. I'm yours as long as you want me for."

Steve smiled, and before you could react, he kissed you again softly. This kiss was much longer and slower than the previous one, and you took the liberty of running your hands through his soft blond hair, messing it further.

"Thank you." Steve said.

And then the elevator ride was over and you exited, hand-in-hand with the man that you would wait a million years for.


	12. never too late.

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  
summary: requested by anonymous: “Could I please request a Steve x reader where Steve and her are getting very close but he lies to break her heart because he is afraid for her safety? A few days later he catches her crying and realizes how much he loves her and how big his mistake is and tried to make it up to her?”  
word count: 1442  
trigger warnings: mentions of violence.  
a/n: kind of cringy and sudden ending, my apologies. xx  
______________________________________________________________________________

His eyes, his smile, his laugh… Every single piece of him took your breath away. Every time he thoughtlessly slung his arm around your shoulders, every time he kissed your forehead with a grin, you fell a little more in love with him.  
Him, being Steve Rogers, the man that you’d been in love with for over one and a half years. The man that you couldn’t seem to get over, no matter how hard you tried. The man who you’d never be with, because the idea of him returning your feelings was laughable. Steve was good, and kind, and charming, and overall the most perfect man that you’d even encountered.   
It was eating you alive, keeping your feelings a secret for so long. Natasha had only just recently found out, after she went snooping through your room on a hunch and found a journal that you kept. You hadn’t really been mad, though, because it was a relief to have someone to finally confide in. She had urged you to tell Steve that you loved him, but you were too afraid. Too afraid of rejection, too afraid of losing your best friend, too afraid of seeing his face screw up in disgust...  
You glumly stirred your morning cup of coffee, sighing quietly as you watched the creamer dissolve into the thick black liquid. You were so lost in your depressing thoughts, in fact, that you didn’t even hear Steve and Sam return from their morning run, and didn’t notice Steve’s presence until he collapsed into the seat next to you.   
“Morning, doll.” Steve said cheerfully, ruffling your hair affectionately. If it had been anyone but Steve, you would have broken their wrist in a flash. But, of course, Steve was the exception.   
He was the exception to a lot of your rules, if you thought about it. Especially that one about not having feelings for your teammates…  
“Um, morning, Steve,” you said, still slightly on edge after having been interrupted in the middle of your thinking. “How many miles did you log today?”  
“About twenty,” he grinned, and suddenly lowered his voice. “You want to know how many Sam--”  
“Don’t you say it!” You heard Sam yell from the common room. “You may be a super-soldier, Cap, but I can still beat your ass!”  
Steve laughed loudly, causing a smile to pull at the corner of your lips. Damn him for being so beautiful, you thought miserably. You suddenly made up your mind, and you realized what you had to do. You had to tell Steve how you felt about him, even if it made things strange and uncomfortable, because the thought of waking up one day and realizing that it was too late was unbearable.  
Once Steve had recovered from his laughing fit, you took a deep, calming breath as you tried to collect your thoughts. “Steve,” you began, your voice the hint of a whisper. You stopped, cleared your throat, and tried again. “Steve, I need to tell you something.”   
Steve looked at you, an eyebrow cocked. He wordlessly gestured for you to continue.  
“I--” you bit the inside of your lip hard enough to draw blood. “I have feelings for you, Steve, there’s no other way for me to say it. I’ve had them for a while now, and I didn’t want to tell you because I thought it would ruin everything we have. The truth is, I think I love--”  
“(Y/N), stop,” Steve said firmly, holding up his hand. “We can’t do this.”  
You recoiled like Steve had slapped you. Your face was burning, and to your utmost dismay, tears were pricking your eyes. You hadn’t expected Steve to pull you into his arms and kiss you full on the mouth, but you had at least hoped that he would let you finish your piece before making his disgust known.   
“What do you mean?” You asked, almost afraid to hear the answer to your question.  
Steve sighed and ran a hand through his already-mussed hair, a tell-tale sign of his nerves. There was a small frown on his face, and his eyebrows were furrowed. “What I mean is that you and I, we can’t. I think of you like a little sister, ,(Y/N), and if I had any idea of how you felt I would have said as much ages ago. I’m sorry--”  
Now it was your turn to cut Steve off. You rose quickly from your chair, forgetting about your half-empty cup of coffee. “Forget it, Steve,” you snapped. “I don’t need your pity, alright? I understand, you don’t feel the same way.” You tried to offer him a weak smile, but it came out more like a grimace. Then, you turned on your heel and fled the scene before your tears began to fall.   
You were so damn stupid to think that Steve would return your feelings. He was Captain America, for god’s sake, the country’s golden boy. You were just a freak of nature who didn’t have anywhere else to go, nothing more, nothing less. And now, due to a ridiculous schoolgirl crush, you had possibly ruined your relationship with the man who had a friend to you when no one else was. 

***  
It had been three days since (Y/N) had confessed her feelings to Steve. And in those three days, Steve hadn’t once seen the girl he’d been deeply in love with for so long.   
He had to protect her, Steve told himself. That was the reason he couldn’t tell (Y/N) the truth, couldn’t admit after nearly two years of pining for her that he loved her. He wanted so desperately to tell her the truth, but the truth meant putting her in danger every time they were together. Steve wouldn’t risk losing (Y/N), even if it meant suffering in silence for the rest of his life.   
She was everything.   
Steve sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes. He’d been having trouble sleeping ever since he had told (Y/N) that he only thought of her as a sister. The look in her eyes when he’d said that… Steve gritted his teeth and tried, unsuccessfully, to push the thoughts of (Y/N) out of his mind. He had a mission to prepare for, and the last thing he needed to be was distracted.   
Steve was just passing by (Y/N)’s room (a coincidence, of course) when he noticed the door was slightly ajar. And through the crack, he could see (Y/N) sitting on her bed, head in hands, crying silently.   
It took less than a second for Steve to decide what his next move was. He knocked on the door softly, and after (Y/N) uttered a muffled “Come in” he slipped inside the and firmly shut it behind him.   
“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Steve asked, sitting down on the bed next to the girl. He tried to wrap his arm around her, but to his surprise, she jerked away.   
“Don’t, please,” (Y/N) sniffed. “Just go.”  
Steve recoiled, hurt flashing across his face. Then, it dawned on him what the reason for (Y/N)’s tears was. It was him. Steve felt his heart drop to the floor as he realized the terrible mistake that he’d made. (Y/N) was perfectly capable of handling her own, that much she’d proven to him time and time again. She didn’t need him to protect her from the dangers of the world. Steve couldn’t do what he’d done with Peggy, he couldn’t wait until it was too late to tell her how he felt. Steve wasn’t so sure that he could handle another 70 years of lost love.   
“(Y/N),” Steve said, more gently this time. “I’m so sorry. I love you.”  
(Y/N) looked up at him, face flushed and eyes swollen. “Listen, Steve, if you could just-- Wait. What did you just say?”  
“I said that I love you, and I’m sorry for lying to you,” Steve smiled sadly. “I thought I was protecting you.”  
(Y/N) wiped at her eyes and gently set her hand on Steve’s leg. “Steven Grant Rogers,” she took a deep breath. “You’re the biggest fucking idiot I know if you think I need any ounce of protection.” Steve opened his mouth to protest, but she continued on. “However, because I love you too, all is forgiven. Now kiss me, dumbass.”  
Steve, still grinning, leaned forward and pressed his mouth to (Y/N)’s. And as he held her, her hands in his hair and his around her waist, he realized that it was never too late to find happiness.


	13. home.

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  
summary: requested by anonymous: “Can you write a steve x reader, where the reader is essentially a female version of dean winchester, violent and tortured, and been through some real shit that would make steve terrified?”  
word count: 1746  
trigger warnings: VERY graphic violence/character death in the beginning of this, and it is mentioned throughout. If you don’t want to read the super-graphic stuff, skip the italics at the beginning and you’ll be good.   
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After a long, grueling shift at the hospital, you were finally returning home. As you parked the car in the driveway of the house you lived in with your mother, father, and younger brother, the only thought on your mind was taking a hot shower and reheating some food before you passed out on the couch. You fumbled with your key ring, flipping through your dozen or so keys before landing on the right one.  
That’s when you noticed something peculiar: the front door was already open. It wouldn’t have been so strange, perhaps, if your mother was sitting on the front porch with a glass of white wine or your brother was playing basketball in the driveway. But the fact that not a single member of your family was in sight, combined with the silence you heard from within the house, was enough to set your teeth on edge.   
“Damn these long shifts,” you muttered quietly, brushing off your nerves as tension from your day. You’d woken at 4:30 that morning after promising to cover for Hayden, a friend of yours and fellow nurse. Of course, when the hour rolled around and you’d had to pull yourself out of bed, you immediately regretted the decision, but it had been too late to back out.   
You pushed open the front door, expecting your father to be waiting as he always was when he heard the car approach. Instead, you were met with an uncomfortable stillness. No sound, not even the dishwasher or dryer running, interrupted the quiet.   
“Hello? Mom, Dad?” You called uncertainly. “Miles, are you here?”  
Nothing. Your stomach felt tight and your heart was pounding in your chest as you moved further into the house, peering in the kitchen and laundry room before heading into the living room.   
And there they were. All of your family members, propped up on the couch. Their eyes stared back at you, deep red smiles cut into their pale faces. Blood still dripped onto a throw pillow from the sides of your brother’s mouth, where the skin had been slashed from the corner of his lips to his ears.   
You stumbled backwards, heart now hammering, as you tried to wrap your mind around what you’d just seen. You now noticed the blood spatter on the ceiling and walls of the room, and it was clear that whatever carnage had taken place here, you’d only avoided it by minutes. Regaining some control of your body, you careened back into the living room, head spinning. You remembered enough from the medical training classes you’d taken to press your fingers against your mother’s neck, checking for a pulse.   
There was none. And when you pulled your hand away, it was covered in hot, sticky blood. You bit back a scream, some instinct telling you to keep quiet, that the danger was not yet gone. You whirled around, expecting to see a dark, shadowy figure standing in the doorway, coated in blood, but there was nothing.   
You reached for the telephone on the table, next to your father’s outstretched hand, and tried to dial. There was no signal, and you realized that the wire had been cut. Whoever had been here, they weren’t taking chances. You remembered the phone in your parent’s bedroom and made a mad dash for the stairs, ignoring the gut feeling that told you to get outside, to run far, far away from this house.   
You should have listened. When you finally made it to the top of the stairs, and rounded the corner to your parents bedroom, you saw something that made you empty the contents of your stomach right then and there on the carpet. A message, written in blood on your door, dripping down onto the floor.  
YOU’RE NEXT.  
And beneath it were three human hearts. You couldn’t hold back your scream this time, and seconds later, suddenly felt eyes on you. You turned slowly, and there he was, face and body coated in blood and black eyes glinting with malice. Something flashed in the murderer’s right hand, and before you had a chance to react the blade was at your throat, cutting off your airway.  
“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” The man said, his breath hot and stinking in your face. He smelled of something rotting, and you suddenly realized that there were chunks of flesh in his teeth. “It’s such a shame I’m going to have to slit your throat. C’mon, baby, smile for me,” he crooned, baring his teeth. “Or I might have to cut you one like your brother’s. He wasn’t too happy to see me.”  
You were screaming, pushing and clawing at the man, but it was no use. He pinned you down against the floor, ripping and tearing at your skin. You felt light-headed, and finally, everything blissfully faded to black--

 

You sat up in bed, heart pounding and body slick with sweat. You wildly looked around the room, searching for the man who had so brutally murdered your family and was still looking for you. But all you saw was your familiar bedroom, painted in a comforting shade of light grey, and as your heart rate slowly returned to normal you buried your head in your hands.   
Your parents and brother had been killed six years ago, and since then, you’d worked tirelessly to find their killer. For some unfathomable reason, the man had let you live, and you would have died if the Avengers hadn’t showed up when they did. You learned that the man worked for HYDRA, and your parents had been targeted because of their connections to S.H.I.E.L.D, an organization you had never known existed until Steve Rogers had explained it to you. Your poor brother Miles, only sixteen years old, had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.   
You’d quit your job at the hospital and moved full-time to the Avenger’s Tower to train as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent under Steve and Natasha Romanoff’s--the infamous Black Widow--watchful eyes. You had still to make any headway on the case, the man who had killed your family seemingly vanished into air.   
You heard footsteps echo in the hallway outside your door, and for a brief second sweat began to gather on your brow before you calmed yourself. Tony’s security system was air-tight; no-one could get in unwelcome. And besides, you were surrounded by some of the world’s most deadly heroes. There was no safer place for you to be.   
The door opened, and a familiar blond-haired man peeked inside. He was dressed in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a grey t-shirt, and his eyes were still half-closed with sleep. Steve cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Another nightmare?”  
You realized that you must have been screaming in your sleep again. “Yeah,” you offered Steve a weak smile. “Sorry I woke you up… Again.”  
Steve smile ruefully, moving into the room and sitting gingerly on the edge of your bed. “It’s not a problem, (Y/N).” He glanced at the clock on your nightstand. “Besides, it’s nearly five. I was going to go to the gym for a little bit. Would you like to join me?”  
You jumped up immediately, grateful for Steve’s offer. Anything to get your mind off of your nightmare--which wasn’t really a nightmare, but your sick,twisted reality--was welcome. You threw on an old, ratty sweatshirt over your tank top and shorts before following Steve to the gym.   
Steve wordlessly began wrapping his hands in white tape while you wandered through the room, not quite sure what you were supposed to be doing. For some reason, you still weren’t able to shake your dream, and image after image flashed through your mind:  
Your poor baby brother, crimson smile dripping blood. Your father, hand reaching towards the telephone in a last effort to save his family. Your mother, head lolling to the side due to the slash in her neck. The unknown killer, chunks of flesh in his teeth--  
“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” Steve caught you before you hit the floor. You shook your head, dazed, and realized that you had collapsed.   
“I’m so sorry, Steve--” You tried to stand, but your legs wouldn’t hold your weight. You fell again, clutching onto a punching bag for support. “I shouldn’t be burdening you with this, you’ve got enough on your plate right now.”  
Steve, a look unlike any you’d ever seen before on his face, pulled you into his arms and stroked your hair. “(Y/F/N/L/N), never, ever think that you could be a burden to me.” He took a deep breath, and you were shocked to see that his eyes were misty with tears. “You have more strength, more courage than anyone, man or woman, that I’ve ever known. You’ve been through more terrible traumatic in the past few years than any one person should have to deal with in a lifetime. And please, never think that you have to deal with this on your own. You can rely on me, (Y/N), I’ll always be here.”  
You were crying now, and Steve gently wiped your tears with the pads of his thumbs. It was only then that you realized how close your faces were, and that Steve’s cerulean blue eyes kept flicking down to your lips. If you moved just a little bit, just a head tilt and a couple of centimeters, then your lips would be touching…  
Steve beat you to it. He pressed his lips against your softly, wrapping his arms clumsily around you. You responded eagerly, threading your fingers through his soft hair. Steve uttered a soft groan against your mouth, and you let out a breathy sigh.   
When you pulled apart, lips aching with a need so deep that you couldn’t stand it, Steve smiled. And suddenly, all of the pieces clicked into place, and a part of your heart that had been closed-off and guarded for the past six years opened. You could draw strength from others, you realized. It was okay to be weak sometimes. You’d been through hell and back in the past six years of your life; you deserved a break sometimes. And as Steve looked at you, his eyes clear and honest, you felt like for the first time since you entered your house that fateful day, you were home.


	14. terrible things.

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  
summary: as Steve and (Y/N) Rogers’ son prepares for his first date, his father tells him the beautiful, tragic love story of his youth.   
word count: 7786  
trigger warnings: heavy mentions of cancer/main character death. If you are personally triggered by this topic, don’t read any further.   
a/n: the title and some dialogue is lifted from Mayday Parade’s song “Terrible Things”. I recommend listening as you read. some plot elements are inspired by the series finale of How I Met Your Mother.  
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Steve Rogers wasn't sure how it happened, but somehow, his son had grown up. He'd gone from a sweet, chubby little boy who pulled his sister's hair and chased the cat around the house to a tall, handsome young man who was now preparing for his first date with a girl he'd been in love with for years. Grant Buchanan Rogers, who was currently attempting to adjust his tie, was the spitting image of his father, though he had all of the mannerisms of his mother. He was just seventeen, so young and full of life, but he acted well beyond his years. This, Steve mused, must have something to do with the fact that he'd faced so much tragedy in his young life.  
(Y/N), the wife he’d loved for so long, had been a vibrant, beautiful, intelligent woman, killed by cancer ten years previously. Grant had been seven years old at the time, and his little sister, Rose Natalia, just two. Steve had faced the difficult task of raising two young children alone, filling the roles of both mother and father all while making sure to keep the memory of the woman he had loved so deeply alive. It hadn't been easy--it was downright hell at times--but as Steve watched his son comb through his hair, he felt a surge of pride for the children he had raised.   
"Hey, Dad?" Grant turned away from the bathroom mirror, an uneasy look on his normally bright and smiling face. "Can I ask you something?"  
Steve leaned forward in his chair and cocked a brow. He glanced at the clock and saw that there was still over two hours before Grant had to leave and pick up his date. "Of course, son. What is it?"  
Grant chewed on his bottom lip anxiously for several seconds (a trait that reminded Steve painfully of (Y/N)) as he thought over his words. Then, he sighed. "Dad, how did you know that you loved Mom?" There was a brief pause, and then Grant added hurriedly, "Not that I'm in love with Antonia, or anything like that. I just want to know."  
Steve's smile vanished. He thought back to that first day that he saw (Y/N), and the way she had blushed when she’d bumped into him in a conference room at S.H.I.E.L.D. He remembered how he had fumbled over his words as he tried to form a coherent thought, and how he couldn't keep his eyes off of her during the meeting. For the life of him he couldn't remember what Fury had been droning on and on about that day, but he remembered the exact shade of blue of the blouse she was wearing, and the way her gaze had lingered on him for just a second too long. Steve remembered every moment of their beautiful, tragic love affair, right down to the day he realized that the cancer was going to take (Y/N) away from him.   
Steve cleared his throat, willing himself not to lose control over his emotions in front of his son. He’d always prided himself on his ability to be strong for his kids, and the last thing Steve wanted to do was burden his children with his own sorrow. “Your mother was the funniest, most intelligent woman that I’ve ever met. I knew that somehow, some way, I would marry her from the first time I laid eyes on her…”

The entire team had converged in one of the tower’s many conference rooms to discuss something that Nick insisted was of the “utmost importance”. Steve, sitting near the head of the table, drummed his fingers against the tabletop anxiously. He checked his watch again, and noted that Nick was five minutes late, which was unlike the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.  
“We’ve got a new recruit coming in today,” Nick said by way of a greeting as he walked. into the conference room. Steve perked up; he’d been the last original recruit to the Avenger’s team several years ago, and the thought of training a new prospect was exciting.   
“Don’t scare her off just yet, alright?” Nick aimed a pointed glance at Tony, who feigned a look of surprise. “Her name is (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). She was kidnapped and experimented on as a child by HYDRA. (Y/N) can manipulate the elements: wind, fire, rain, earthquakes, thunder, lightening… You name it, she can do it. Thanks to Romanoff and Barton, we managed to track her down just outside of Moscow. She’s been through hell and back these past few years, but I expect you to treat her like you would each other. ”  
Nick turned to the door expectantly, and the entire team seemed to hold their breath as they waited for it to open. And when it did, Steve was shocked. Whatever he had been expecting, it in no way matched the girl that walked into the room. (Y/N) was pale and thin, with wide, terrified eyes that flitted around the room. Steve realized that she was committing all exits and usable weapons in the room to memory, something he’d been taught during his time in the army. When she seemed satisfied, her eyes turned to the people in the room, jumping from Tony to Bruce to finally him….  
Steve sucked in a quick breath when (Y/N)’s eyes met his. She was beautiful, he realized, beneath the wild mess of (Y/H/C) hair and gaunt face. A small, faint blush spread across her cheeks, bringing color into her pale face. Steve looked away quickly, partly because he didn’t want to embarrass the poor girl and partly because he was blushing as well.  
Nick, realizing that (Y/N) wasn’t going to speak without prompting, made introductions. “Agent (Y/L/N), you already know Barton and Romanoff. That over there is Tony Stark,” Tony offered (Y/N) a wink and a lazy grin. “Doctor Bruce Banner, Thor, and Captain Rogers.”  
Steve smiled, and to his utmost surprise, (Y/N) offered him a small one in response. The gesture completely transformed her face, and suddenly Steve could see the girl she had been before she’d been tortured and experimented on. He saw light within her, and then and there, he made it his personal mission to do whatever it took to give her life again. 

Steve glanced at Grant, and after seeing that his son was waiting for him to continue, spoke again. “Fury assigned me to train with your mother a few days after she’d been at the tower, build up her strength so she could go on missions with us. She was really quiet and withdrawn at first because of everything that she’d been through. Your mom may not have acted like it, but she went through a lot before she came to the Avengers. Little by little, though, she revealed pieces of herself to me. 

Steve took a step back as (Y/N) approached the middle of the field. They’d spent weeks working in the gym on building (Y/N)’s physical strength, and once Fury had given him the go-ahead, Steve had decided that it was time to see what she could do with her powers.   
(Y/N) closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She twitched her right hand, fingers curling, and suddenly the ground beneath Steve’s feet began to split. Cracks were forming in the dirt, spreading and twisting as (Y/N)’s hands directed them. She opened her eyes, a small grin on her face, before suddenly snapping her hand back. Just like that, the ground was smooth and unblemished again.   
Steve couldn’t contain his awe. Fury had told him that (Y/N)’s powers were strong, but he hadn’t imagined anything like this. The ability to control the elements and manipulate them like that, it was unheard of. Steve crossed the field quickly, still shaking his head in wonderment, to stand in front of (Y/N).  
“That was incredible,” Steve said lamely. “I mean, seriously, I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve been around a long time.”  
(Y/N) quirked a brow. “Weren’t you frozen for a good seventy of those years?”   
It took Steve a moment to realize that (Y/N) was teasing him, and he blushed. “Well, um, yes, I was. But still,” he added hastily, trying to recover from his awkward lapse. “I’m impressed, and I’m sure that the rest of the team will be too.   
“Thank you, Steve,” (Y/N) said softly. “It’s wonderful to know that finally, I can do some good with the curse that has been placed upon me.”   
Steve, who had been about to suggest that they head back to the tower, stopped short. In the weeks that he had known (Y/N), she had never once spoken of anything deeper than the weather. Now, she was offering him an opportunity to get to know the girl beneath the shadowed eyes.   
“What you have, it doesn’t have to be a curse,” Steve said carefully. “If you want, you can turn it into a gift. You can use your power to save lives and protect the world from the people who did this to you.”  
(Y/N) turned to him, eyes shining. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“How come you waited so long to ask her out? I mean, you had liked her for what, four months? Five? And you didn’t say anything?” Grant asked incredulously, eyebrows raised in disbelief.   
Steve chuckled. “It took your mother a long time to come around to the idea of dating me, or at least that’s she always said. Personally, I think that she liked me from the beginning, but just didn’t want to admit it.” He grinned and shook his head. “I first asked her out after one of our training sessions, but she very politely refused, and made it clear that if I were to push her on the topic, she would make sure that I met a swift and sudden death. Your Aunt Nat managed to convince her to give me a shot, though.”  
Grant scoffed. “Man, Dad. I can’t believe that you were too big of a baby to ask out a girl. You’re Captain America, for god’s sake!”  
“Now, how long has it taken you now to muster up the courage to ask Antonia on a date?” Steve fired back, smirk mirroring his son’s.   
Grant’s smug look faded, replaced by a red flush. “Um, you know what? You weren’t that big of a baby, I guess. Continue.”  
“That’s what I thought,” Steve said. “Like I was saying, I finally worked up the nerve to ask your mother out…”

Five months. It had taken Steve four to convince himself that it was worth a shot to ask (Y/N) to coffee, and another after that to work up the courage to actually do it.   
He had just finished a four-hour long training session with (Y/N), and they were currently walking the short distance back to the car. Steve had thought it best to drive to a remote location to work on (Y/N)’s abilities with fire, both for his sake as well as innocent bystanders. Unsurprisingly, (Y/N) had been fantastic, and in just a few short hours she was able to start and stop massive fires with a flick of the wrist.  
“(Y/N),” Steve took a deep, steadying breath. “Can I ask you something?”  
(Y/N) glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. “Sure, Steve, what is it?”  
Steve nervously ran a hand through his sweaty hair and cleared his throat. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember the speech he’d so carefully planned, and his mind was completely blank. “Um, well, (Y/N),” Steve began awkwardly. “I, um, would you like to-- Only if you want, I mean-- Go out for coffee? Y’know, with me?”  
(Y/N) let out a small breath, her cheeks flushing. She looked as awkward as Steve felt, and his heart deflated a little. “Steve, I really do enjoy spending time with you, and as cheesy as this may sound, I don’t think I’m anywhere near prepared to be in a relationship with someone. I’ve got too many demons for that right now.” She smiled apologetically before continuing. “And, although I know you aren’t the type of man to continue pursuing a woman once she’s turned you down, it would do you well to remember that I have nature literally at my fingertips.”  
(Y/N) wiggled her fingers for emphasis, and Steve could have sworn that he saw a lick of flames out of the corner of his eye. When he turned to look, however, it was gone.  
“Oh, and Steve?” (Y/N) called as he began to walk away. Steve turned around, half-hoping she’d changed her mind. “I never said never.”  
And then (Y/N) did something that stunned Steve. She winked at him. 

“A few weeks later, (Y/N) approached me in the gym and told me that we were going out on a date that night, and that I better not be late,” Steve laughed, though his heart panged suddenly at the thought of (Y/N). “We dated for two years, and then we found out that she was pregnant with you.”  
Grant scrunched up his nose at this, reminding Steve of the young boy his son used to be. “I don’t need to know all the details, Dad. Please, spare me.“  
“Okay, fine, we’ll skip that part. So, nine weeks before you were supposed to be born, I asked (Y/N) to marry me with a little help from your godfather and aunt Nat…”

“Do you really think she’s going to say yes?” Steve asked nervously, glancing over at Bucky.  
Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Steve? You’re having a baby together. If she doesn’t want to marry you, you’ve got bigger problems than just that.”  
Steve couldn’t believe how his life had changed the past several months. From the first day that (Y’N) had approached him, cheeks stained with tears and eyes bright with a pregnancy test in hand, everything had been different. Out on missions, he no longer thought about his own life, but the life on his unborn child. Instead of guns and battle plans, thoughts of pastel wall colors and bassinets filled his brain.   
Steve was finally getting the life that he’d been dreaming of for as long as he could remember, the life he thought he would be living with Peggy Carter in the 1940’s. This life, though, right here in the age of cell phones and bright neon signs, was so much better. Only one thing was missing, a thing that weighed heavily in the pocket of his jeans.   
Steve sighed and reflexively reached for the ring box in his pocket. He’d been carrying it around ever since (Y/N) found out that she was pregnant, and he’d almost asked her a hundred times, but it never seemed right. (Y/N) found big, elaborate displays of romance to be cheesy and frivolous, and much preferred a quiet night at home than one out partying. The proposal had to be perfect.   
With the help of Bucky and Natasha, Steve had finally settled on a plan. Natasha had been the distraction, taking (Y/N) out for lunch while Steve and Bucky set up the movie room for the event. After consulting Pinterest (an online website that baffled both Steve and Bucky) the two began stringing up fairy lights and lighting candles in the room. After that, Bucky swiped a bunch of throw pillows from Tony’s room while Steve dug for (Y/N)’s favorite movie in her room.  
The two men stepped back, surveying the work they had done in a little over an hour. Steve was rather impressed at their skills, seeing as he and Bucky were no more interior designers than they were fashion models. His phone buzzed, signaling a text message. Steve glanced down at the screen and saw a text from Natasha.   
On the way back. ETA 5 minutes. Everything ready?   
Yes, Steve responded. He stuck his phone back into his pocket and clapped Bucky on the shoulder. “Nat and (Y/N) are on the way back. Are you sure we’re ready?”  
“I would say we did pretty damn good,” Bucky grinned. “How could she say no to this?”

“Turns out, she nearly did say no,” Steve laughed at the memory. “She was scared that I was just trying to marry her because she was pregnant. After I assured her that no, it was because I loved her, she agreed to marry me.”  
Grant, who had previously been smiling along with his father, suddenly frowned. “You know, I forgot that Mom used to have a funny temper like that. There’s a lot of things that I’ve forgotten.”  
Steve’s mouth went dry. Sometimes, it came as a jolt to realize that it had been ten years since (Y/N) had passed, because his pain was still as strong as it had been the day she died. Steve had been fortunate enough to know (Y/N) for nearly ten years, while Grant had only truly known her for four, having been so young at the time of her death. And poor Rose, his twelve year old daughter, she remembered nothing of her mother.   
As the years dragged on, Steve found that he began to forget the little things, like the way (Y/N) would make the bed in the morning or the precise shade of lipstick that she always wore. It terrified him, the thought that his memory would soon begin to fail him even more, and he wouldn’t remember how her dimples stood out when she laughed and the way her eyes would shine when she looked at him--  
Steve took a deep breath, trying--and failing--to compose himself. “Son,” Steve began, his voice breaking. “If there’s anything you want to know about your mother, anything at all, you tell me, alright? I want you to know her the best that you can.”  
Grant nodded, hesitating before speaking again. “Um, Dad? How did… How did you find out?” Grant swallowed thickly. “You know, about Mom’s cancer.”  
Steve had known that someday, he would have to talk to his children about the cancer that had taken their mother’s life, but he had been putting it off for as long as he could remember. His excuses had been valid ten years ago, that the children were too young, that they needed to be sheltered. Grant was nearly a man now, though, and he deserved to know every piece of his mother, both the good and the bad. He needed to know how she fought to her last breath, how she comforted him when they found out that the cancer had been detected too late, and not the other way around. (Y/N) was stronger than he had ever been during her eight-month long battle with cancer.  
Steve cleared his throat and braced himself for the most difficult story that he would ever have to tell. “We had no idea that there was anything wrong. Your mother was just going in for a regular doctor’s appointment, and that’s when they found it…”

The sleek, black ferrari whipped into the women’s health center parking lot, Natasha behind the wheel. Steve gripped the door handle tightly, knuckles turning white as a million thoughts raced through his mind. When (Y/N) had called him just twenty minutes ago, her voice had sounded so broken, so deflated. She wouldn’t tell him what was wrong, just that he needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible.   
Steve, feeling too anxious to drive, had asked Natasha if she would go with him and then return the car to the tower. She’d readily agreed, and they’d taken one of Tony’s modified sports cars, breaking nearly thirty safety laws during the short drive to the hospital.   
Steve threw open the door, but Natasha grabbed his arm. “Steve,” Natasha--who was usually the rock of the group, the only one who could hide her emotions--was pale, and her voice was shaking. “Whatever this is, you and (Y/N) can get through it. Bucky and I will keep an eye on the kids.”  
Steve felt a sudden rush of gratitude for his friend and reached across the center console to grip her in a one-armed hug. “Thank you,” he breathed. “I’ll let you know when we’re on the way back.”  
“Everything will be okay, Steve.” Natasha said without any real conviction. Steve let the door shut, and he didn’t move until the black ferrari was racing out of the parking lot.   
Suddenly regaining his senses, he bolted into the hospital, barely stopping at the front desk to ask for directions before barreling down the hall and into his wife’s room.   
304\. The number on the door would remain ingrained in Steve’s mind for the rest of his life, because in that room was where everything changed. His life, his hopes, his dreams… It was all gone in just a few words.   
“I have cancer,” (Y/N) told him, eyes blazing and ferocious as she tried to reign in her emotions. “It’s too far along now to do much of anything. They said it’s only a matter of months before--”  
Steve let out a choked sob and squeezed (Y/N)’s hand more tightly in his own. “There has to be something we can do. We can ask Bruce, or Tony, they can find a way--”  
(Y/N) smiled sadly. “You know I have the utmost faith in those men, but even they can’t cure cancer. We’ve just got to accept the fact that I won’t be around for Grant’s graduation, or Rose’s wedding--”  
And then, (Y/N) broke. For the first time in nine years, Steve saw his beautiful, intelligent, kind, fierce wife fall apart. She began sobbing and clutching at Steve, and he held her tightly, wishing with everything he had that he could take this pain, this disease away from her and place it inside of himself. He wished that he could spare his children the aching loss of a parent, something he’d faced growing up and never imagined his own children would as well. 

“I don’t think either of us ever gave up hope, really,” Steve whispered. He reached over and squeezed his son’s hand, much like he had done (Y/N)’s that day in the hospital. “Your mother fought to the very end. I was more and more proud every single day to call her my wife, because she was a hundred times stronger than I could have ever been. She continued to raise a family and work for S.H.I.E.L.D, all from a hospital bed.  
“There was even a time when I began to think that she would beat the disease. I never realized how much she was hiding from me because she wanted me to focus on you kids. (Y/N) never let me in on the fact that every time she breathed, she hurt, and that she could hardly move without collapsing in pain. She hid it all from everyone, and none of us realized until after she was gone.” Steve noticed the silent tears falling down his son’s face and paused. “I shouldn’t be telling you this right now. You’re going out in a few hours--”  
“No,” Grant cleared his throat. “I want to hear this, Dad. I’m seventeen now, this is stuff I should have heard a long time ago.”  
“Fine. The last day--” Steve’s voice broke. He took a deep breath and tried again. “The last day was as good as it could have been. (Y/N) was trying her best to be her normal, chipper self, but we both knew that she didn’t have much time left. So, your mother began saying her goodbyes…”

It was time. Steve knew, deep down, that his wife wouldn’t live to see another sunrise. The thought made every part of his body ache and burn, and the worst part was knowing that there was nothing he could do to save her. He had failed his most important mission of all: to protect the love of his life.   
“Who do you want to see first?” Steve tried to smile at (Y/N) as he kissed her forehead, but it was difficult.   
It was difficult because she was hooked to a dozen different tubes and machines, and her face was thin and drawn. It was difficult because he’d spent the last ten years of his life with her, what was he supposed to do now? It was difficult because they had two innocent children who would now never get to truly know the woman they acted so much like. It was difficult because Steve couldn’t remember a world that didn’t have (Y/N) in it.   
“Will you send Nat in?” (Y/N) asked quietly, face pale but determined  
Steve nodded silently and leaned down to press another kiss to her forehead before going out into the hall to retrieve Natasha. The entire team was sitting on the ground--except for Tony, who was pacing anxiously--talking in low voices. Grant was curled up against Bucky, his eyes wide but tired. Steve couldn’t imagine the pain and confusion that his poor son must have been feeling. Rose was asleep in Natasha’s arms, and the assassin was cooing at the child quietly.   
“Natasha,” Steve said, and he was surprised at how weak his voice sounded. “(Y/N) wants to see you.”  
Natasha paled, wordlessly handing Rose off to Clint before following Steve into the dimly-lit hospital room. Steve sat in a chair in the corner, trying to give the women privacy, but unwilling to take his eyes off of (Y/N) for more than a minute. He didn’t know how much longer he had to look at her, to take in every curve and angle of her face, to admire the flecks of gold in her eyes, to see the woman he loved living, breathing in front of him.   
Natasha approached the bed, and Steve could see how hard she was trying to contain her emotions. None of them liked crying in front of (Y/N), especially given how strong she had been during the months she’d been sick.   
“How are you feeling?” Natasha said, her voice even lower than normal. She took one of (Y/N)’s hands in her own.   
(Y/N) grinned at her. “C’mon, Nat, let’s skip the bullshit,” she coughed suddenly, and it was several moment before she was able to speak again. When she lifted her head, Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “There are some things I need to tell you before-- Before there isn’t a chance for me to say them. First off, thank you for being the best friend a girl could ask for. Thank you for dragging me on shopping trips and watching cheesy romantic movies with me. Thank you for having my back on every mission and defending me, even when we both know I’m in the wrong. And most importantly, thank you for being the best goddamn aunt in the world to Rose; I’m so grateful that she’ll have a strong woman in her life to look up to once I’m gone.”  
Natasha’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, and she reached down and pulled (Y/N) into a tight hug, or at least as tight as the many tubes and wires protruding from the woman’s body would allow. When they broke apart, Natasha was wiping at her eyes and smiling at (Y/N). “I love you so damn much,” Natasha whispered. “And it’s going to be a lot different place when you’re not around all the time. But I promise that I’ll take care of Rose for you, and I’ll take her on shopping trips and watch whatever movies she wants to watch.   
“You don’t have to worry about your kids, (Y/N),” Natasha paused. “You don’t have to worry about your kids because they’re going to have eight other parents watching out for them. I promise that Grant and Rose will not grow up in an empty, broken home, because we’re all here. We’ll love them when you can’t anymore.”  
(Y/N) smiled sadly and nodded, seemingly unable to speak. After several moments of silence she grabbed Natasha’s hand in both of hers and held them over her heart. “I don’t worry about my babies at all,” she said. “I know you all will take care of them. I love you, Nat. Dearly.”  
The rest of the goodbyes went something similar to this, and there were tears and laughter and promises made that (Y/N) would never live to see fulfilled. After Bucky had kissed (Y/N)'s forehead for a final time and left the room, Tony entered.   
The man’s face was tired and drawn, and he looked older than Steve had ever seen him. Tony didn’t even attempt to offer Steve a smile or condolences as he walked in; he only nodded in a way that seemed to say “This fucking hurts” before taking his place beside (Y/N).  
“Hey, kiddo,” Tony said, his voice and face changing completely as he spoke to (Y/N). The two had always been close, having something akin to a father-daughter relationship. Tony now had a child of his own, a little girl called Antonia, but he still treated (Y/N) like his own. And right now, as Steve looked on, you could almost mistake Tony for a father grieving for his daughter, and wishing that he could change places with her.  
(Y/N) brightened visibly when she saw Tony, and she even made an effort to sit up before going white and collapsing back onto the pillows. Steve immediately rushed to the bedside, hands flying uncertainly as he adjusted tubes and wires.   
“I’m alright,” (Y/N) said weakly, waving the two men off. “Seriously, guys, I’m okay.”  
Steve nodded, his heart pounding in his chest as he took up his post in the corner again. For a moment, he had thought it was over, that she was going…  
“Listen, kid, I want you to know something. You’re one hell of a fighter, alright? Strongest woman I’ve ever known. We’re all so damn proud of you, every single one of us,” Tony stopped and cleared his throat. “And I’m never going to let anyone forget about you. Statues, plaques, a museum, the whole nine yards--”  
(Y/N) laughed weakly and reached up to touch Tony’s cheek. “Oh, I don’t need all of that. As long as you all remember me, I’ll consider my time here to have been a success. I’m so fortunate, Tony, to have known you, and to be able to proudly say that I got to meet the real Tony Stark, beneath the genius, playboy, philanthropist exterior.   
Tony swallowed thickly. “You forgot billionaire, but I guess I’ll let it slide.”  
The pair sunk into a comfortable silence, (Y/N)’s hand still stroking Tony’s cheek and his gripping the thin sheets of her hospital bed. (Y/N) was the first to break the gentle stillness, biting her lip as she stared at Tony. “Now, don’t cry on me, Stark, because if you do--” She broke off, voice shaking. “If you do, I will too. And I’ve got just one more speech to get through, so bear with me.   
“Tony, you have been a father to me in ways that my biological one was not. You have loved me and accepted me, flaws and all, into your life. You have hugged me and held me while I cried, listened and offered advice when I was confused. And most of all, you have never treated me like a poor, dying woman. I’ve always been just (Y/N) to you, nothing more, nothing less. And I thank you for that, Tony, more than you may ever know.”  
Tony buried his face against (Y/N)’s hair as he held her, his entire body shaking. And for the first time that day, silent sobs were escaping (Y/N)’s body. The two held each other, crying quietly, as Steve watched the sun sink down beneath the clouds.

“Your uncle Tony left, and after your mother had a few minutes to calm down, your aunt Nat and uncle Bucky brought you and your sister in. I don’t know if you remember that…” Steve trailed off, eyes searching his seventeen year old son’s face. It was almost jarring, coming out of the memories of Grant as a little boy and seeing him as he was now, nearly a man.   
“I remember.” Grant said shortly. “Not much of what was said, but just being there. Seeing her. I remember thinking that even though she looked really sick, she still smiled at me and kissed my forehead. I remember thinking that Aunt Nat and Uncle Bucky looked really sad, and that they didn’t try to play any games with me in the waiting room. I remember-- I remember you telling me that Mom was gone, but that she was somewhere with my grandparents and Uncle Pietro…”

Steve opened the door for (Y/N)’s final visitors, the last people that she had to say goodbye to. Natasha was the first in the room, with Rose’s arms latched around her neck, and then came Bucky leading Grant by the hand. The young boy immediately ran to (Y/N), clambering up into her bed to snuggle against her side.   
“Hey, baby,” (Y/N) cooed, stroking Grant’s fine blond hair. “Have you been good for Uncle Bucky and Aunt Natty?”  
Grant nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, Momma, I have. Uncle Bucky bought me an ice cream earlier! Can you believe that? Ice cream before dinner! And he put sprinkles and marshmallows on top…”  
Grant launched into a detailed explanation of his ice cream while (Y/N) smiled at him and continued to comb through his hair. Steve could see the pain in her eyes as she gazed at the boy who she would never see grow up and live his life. He could see how she was savoring her last moments with him, discussing trivial things and pretending like they were at home, and everything was normal. Pretending that she wasn’t slowly losing energy the darker the sky became.   
Rose had waddled over to (Y/N) on chubby toddler legs, and Natasha had set her on the bed before quietly slipping out the door with Bucky. (Y/N) gestured for Steve to join her, so he sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on her leg.   
“Rose, Grant, can you listen to Momma for just a second?” (Y/N) said, trying her best attempt at a cheery voice. The two children immediately looked up at her, blue eyes wide. “Now, Momma-- Momma is going to have to go soon, okay? But I want you to know that I love you both so, so much. Your Daddy and Aunt Natty and Uncle Bucky and Uncle Tony and everyone else are going to take care of you and love you both so very much. And even though you won’t be able to see me, I’m still going to be right here with you.  
“My babies, you are going to do incredible things when you get older. I’ll be watching over you both from a beautiful place called Heaven, laughing with you and smiling and feeling so very proud of my beautiful children. Goodbye isn’t forever, my darlings. Goodbye is only the beginning, because one day, we will be reunited again. I love you, forever.”  
And she leaned down and kissed their foreheads before hugging them both to her chest, one arm around each child. Steve faintly heard Grant muffle an “I love you”, and then Natasha and Bucky returned for the children, and the hardest part was over.   
“That was the last of them…” Steve said quietly, glancing over at (Y/N). Internally he was thinking, “What happens now?” but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words aloud.   
“Not quite,” (Y/N) murmured, a small, watery smile on her face, which was growing paler and paler by the minute. “You were wrong, you know.” She added, so quietly Steve thought he’d misheard.  
“What was I wrong about?” Steve cocked a brow.  
(Y/N) shifted uneasily in her bed, pain flashing yet again in her eyes. “My hardest goodbye wasn’t to the children, because they have all of you. And it wasn’t to Nat, because she has Clint, and Tony has Pepper, and Bucky has you, but Steve--” (Y/N)’s voice cracked. “Who do you have? Who’s going to take care of you?”  
(Y/N) reached out for Steve, and he was suddenly reminded of the first day they met, when her eyes had been wide and full of fear, and she seemed so unsure, so broken. They were ten years younger, stumbling into romance and learning how to be one half of a whole. Reality faded, and they were just Steve and (Y/N), and for a single, blissful moment, they held each other.   
Steve tried to memorize the sound of (Y/N)’s heart beating against his, slow and steady and pumping life into her frail body. He tried to inhale as much of her scent as he could as he held her against his chest. This was the last time of last times, Steve suddenly knew, and he’d been wrong about the hardest part being over. The hardest part was now, when he had to let go but he couldn’t make himself. Because the sky was pitch black outside, and her breath was coming in shallow spurts, and his heart was hammering in his chest--  
“Steve,” (Y/N) pulled herself away from his chest, staring up into his eyes. “I’m so damn scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, and I’m scared for you, because I don’t want you to hurt, and I’m scared for our babies, and I’m scared for our friends, and Steve,” (Y/N)’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t want to die yet.”  
Any part of Steve’s heart that was still intact shattered in that instant. He wanted so badly to tell (Y/N) that she would be okay, he would be okay, but it wasn’t true. He couldn’t promise her that there was a Heaven waiting for her, though he believed it with all his might. He couldn’t promise her that they’d see each other again.   
“(Y/N) Rogers,” Steve began, willing his voice to be strong, willing himself to find just an ounce of strength for his wife. “You are the greatest love of my life, and for as long as I live, I will continue to love you. Nothing, not even death, can change that.”  
(Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut as a single tear made its way down her cheek. “I love you, Steve, so goddamn much, and that’s why I want you to move on someday. I want you to promise me that you’ll find a woman that you can love and marry her, and spend the rest of your life not mourning me, but being happy. I want our children to know a mother, and if that can’t be me, I want it to be a woman that you love. Promise me, Steve.”  
The machine next to (Y/N)’s bed was blinking erratically, and her breath was shorter and shorter. Her eyes, now half shut, seemed to grow hazy, but she still managed to hold Steve’s hand in a tight grip.   
“I promise, doll,” Steve choked out. “I promise. I love you, I love you, I love you (Y/N)--”  
The machine flatlined, and Steve felt the sudden coldness in the room as your spirit seemed to fade away. He hardly noticed when Natasha entered the room and held him in a tight embrace, because he couldn’t stop looking at (Y/N), even when the doctors pulled the white sheet up over her head. Steve couldn’t stop looking, because the second he turned his head away it would mean that it was true.   
It would mean that she was gone. 

At some point during the telling of his story, Steve had pulled Grant against him, mimicking the way that Natasha had held him that last day at the hospital. His son was crying, tears rolling down his cheeks as they both remembered the wife and mother that each had lost.   
“Dad,” Grant finally said, his voice no more than a whisper. “What would you say if I said that I thought I loved Antonia?”  
Steve went cold. A million memories flashed through his mind, of a young girl with big, scared eyes and a blushing young man; of bouquets of roses and stammered conversations; of dark rooms and the scent of vanilla candles and tangled legs beneath sheets. Steve suddenly saw himself in Grant, and the wide-eyed, innocent way he regarded love. The thought of Grant facing the horrors and heartbreak that Steve had made him feel sick.   
And then the words came rushing out of Steve’s mouth, too fast for him to control. They echoed through the room, reverberating through Steve’s head long after he finished speaking. "Don’t fall in love, there's too much to lose. Walk away, son, while you still have a choice. I can’t bear to see the same things that happened to me happen to you.”   
Whatever answer Grant had been expecting, it certainly wasn't this, as shock flitted across his face and his eyes widened. "What are you talking about, Dad? What about all of that stuff you said about Mom? I thought you loved her?"  
Steve sighed heavily and rose to his feet. He squeezed his son's shoulder gently, and after a long pause, whispered, "I loved her more than anything in the world, Grant. I'm only telling you this because life can do terrible things sometimes," Steve coughed to disguise the lump in his throat. "Have fun on your date, and be back before eleven."

Steve wasn’t sure how long he sat in the chair by the window, staring out at the night sky, before the doorbell rang. He jumped up, checking his watch as he hurried towards the front of the house. Grant wasn’t due back yet, and Rose was staying at Natasha’s for the night…  
Steve threw the door open, revealing none other than Tony Stark. Without waiting for Steve to invite him in, the older man crossed the threshold, not waiting for Steve as he made himself comfortable in the living room.  
“Stark?” Steve finally said, snapping out of his daze as he trailed behind Tony. “What the hell are you doing?”  
Tony gestured for Steve to take a seat next to him on the sofa, acting as if he owned the house. After Steve had settled himself, Tony kicked his feet up on the coffee and began speaking. “Well, Capsicle, when Grant showed up to pick up my daughter, he was more than a little upset. He told me some things, about how you and him had been talking about (Y/N). Something in particular that he mentioned really stood out to me,” Tony paused, glancing over at Steve. “You told your son not to fall in love.”  
It wasn’t a question so much as a statement, like Tony knew exactly what Steve’s response would be before he barged into his house. “I did,” Steve admitted. “I don’t know why I said it. Just thinking about (Y/N) at the hospital… Something snapped, and the thought of Grant experiencing what I did terrifies me.”  
Tony sighed and leaned back on the sofa, eyes closed. “We all miss her like hell, Cap, but like she said, at some point, you’ve got to move on. And besides, wasn’t the short amount of time you had with (Y/N) some of the best years of your life? How in the hell could you not want Grant to have something like that?”  
Steve groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “I screwed up, didn’t I?” He looked out of the corner of his eye and saw that Tony was nodding, further fueling his guilt.  
“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure Grant took what you said with a grain of salt anyway,” Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “Besides, you can talk to him when he gets home. What curfew did you set for him, by the way? I told Nia three-thirty.”  
Steve sat up, turning to Tony with wide eyes. “Three-thirty? I told Grant eleven!”   
Tony snorted. “You really don’t know how teenagers are now, do you? There’s no way they’re back by eleven. But I digress. This is really about you, and how it’s becoming painfully obvious that you’ve been suppressing your feelings for a certain red-headed assassin for quite some time now.”  
Steve felt his face flush, and for the life of him he couldn’t think of a single intelligent thing to say. So, he settled on, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Tony.”  
Tony only laughed again and rolled his eyes. “Please. I’ve been noticing for weeks--months, even--how when our fair Natasha Romanoff enters a room you look anywhere but at her. And, not that you’ve noticed, but she can’t seem to look at you either,” Tony glanced at Steve, his face softening. “Seriously, Spangles. It’s been ten years; (Y/N) would be kicking you for not taking a chance with Romanoff. Didn’t she tell you that she wanted the kids to have a mother? Natasha’s practically raised them with you; she’s the closest thing to a mother that Rose can ever remember and Grant thinks of her like one. Give yourself a shot at happiness, for her.”  
Steve sighed in defeat and threw his hands up. “Fine, you’ve got me. I have a thing for Natasha. But what would Grant and Rose say? She was their mother’s best friend, it would be disrespectful.”  
“What’s disrespectful is the fact that you aren’t honoring (Y/N)’s last wish, Steve,” Tony grabbed Steve’s phone off of the coffee table and handed it to him. “Now call her.”  
Tony disappeared into the kitchen, and once Steve heard the sound of him rummaging through the fridge he dialed the familiar number, his fingers shaking. He waited anxiously for several moments as the phone rang, and he had nearly given up hope when he heard the click of the call being picked up.   
“Hello?”


	15. birthday surprise.

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  
summary: It's your birthday, and while you would love nothing more than to spend all day in bed with your boyfriend, Steve, the Avengers have other plans.  
word count: 1546  
trigger warnings: nope. super short, super fluffy.  
a/n: seriously, I wrote this ages ago, and it’s not too hot. super fluffy, super cringy. proceed with caution.  
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"Happy birthday, gorgeous," a low voice whispered in your ear. You felt your hair being brushed over your shoulder, and then a pair of lips descended on your neck, leaving behind a trail of soft kisses. You let out a quiet groan and rolled over, rubbing at your tired eyes as you came face-to-face with your boyfriend of five months, Steve Rogers. He was smiling at your brightly, somehow looking wide-awake, even though it was barely daylight.   
"Thanks, love," you said groggily, voice raspy with sleep. You ran a hand through your tangled hair and yawned. "What time is it, anyway? I thought you usually headed out on your run this time of morning."  
Steve leaned across you, his bare chest brushing against your arm (you blushed, of course) as he checked the time on the alarm clock. "About six-twenty. You know how Tony is with birthdays, though. He'll be bursting into your room as soon as he wakes up with a of stack chocolate chip pancakes with a mountain of whipped cream." Steve grinned, unable to hide the excitement in his baby blue eyes.  
You raised an eyebrow at him, lips pressed together in a tight line. While you hated being awake this early, the thought of chocolate chip pancakes was enough to make your stomach growl. "And exactly how do you know this, Captain?"  
"I'm afraid that's classified information, ma'am," Steve smirked, shooting you a wink. "But I will tell you this: Tony's recruited the entire team to be a part of your birthday surprise. I figured they would get suspicious if they busted into your room and found nothing but a made-up bed."  
You nodded along with Steve's words, frowning slightly. Even though you had been dating for several months, you still hadn't told the rest of the team about your relationship. It's not that you didn't want your friends to know, exactly, it was just Tony and Clint had a habit of checking the security cameras and spying on everyone often, and if they knew you were together, this would be almost constant. Also, dating someone you worked with was always a tricky field to navigate, especially if that someone happened to be your leader. It would just muddy things up and make it look like the Captain favored you over everyone else.  
You cleared the troublesome thoughts away, trying to focus on the matter at hand. "So, am I to expect a lavish party tonight then as well?" You were now wide awake, and you sat up against the headboard of the bed, pulling the covers up to your chin as you yawned.  
Steve opened his mouth to respond, but then there was a loud rapping on the door. You let out a small squeal and dove beneath the blankets, your heart pounding in your chest. This was definitely not how you wanted your friends to find out about your relationship. Steve let out a quiet curse and rose out of bed, hurriedly pulling on a pair of grey sweatpants.  
"Rise and shine, Spangles! It's time for Operation (Y/N)'s birthday to commence," Tony called, knocking again, this time with more force. "You better not be naked, Cap, because I'm coming in on 3... 2..."  
"Okay, okay, I'm coming! I'm hardly dressed, Tony. Give me a second." Steve snapped, shooting you a panicked look.  
You peeked out from beneath the comforter, eyes zeroing in on the door across the room as you tried to think of a plausible story to feed your friends. You knew that this was your best option, seeing as there was no way out now. Of course, there was always Steve's balcony… Sure, there was a chance you could fall to your death, but you would take that over taking a walk of shame back to your bedroom as your teammates looked on. In fact, it was starting to not sound like such a bad plan after all...  
You then heard Natasha's voice, loud and piercing as she rapped on the door. "Steve, we've got to get this show on the road. We’re coming in."  
You watched in horror as the door knob started turning as if it were in slow motion. Before Steve could even so much as call out a warning the door was flung open, revealing Tony, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Bucky, Thor, and Wanda, all wearing party hats (which was most likely Tony's idea) and carrying a stack of wrapped gifts. You tried to cover yourself back up, but it was no use. It would take more than a comforter to hide you from the sharp eyes of the Avengers, after all.  
"Oh, shit!" Clint broke the awkward silence, looking at you gleefully. He rubbed his hands together in excitement, eyes gleaming. "Cap and (Y/N) are sleeping together? C'mon, Tony, pay up. I told you she'd go for Cap before Bucky! I don’t know what you were thinking with that one."  
Tony--looking pretty shocked himself--grumbled something about unfair odds before digging around in his pockets and pulling out a decent wad of cash, slapping it into the archer’s outstretched hand. Clint pocketed it immediately, completely oblivious to the death glares that both you and Natasha were sending his way  
"Wait," you sat up, finally finding your voice. You made sure that the blankets covered your naked body completely before continuing. "You all best on us? Are you kidding me?"  
Tony grinned at you and shrugged his shoulders, offering you a lazy wink. "What else are we supposed to do between missions?"  
You rolled your eyes at him, not deeming his words worthy of a real response. You grabbed Steve's shirt off the ground and pulled it over your head, careful to not expose yourself to the group. After you deemed yourself appropriate, you returned your attention to your group of friends. "I know you all probably have a million questions, but I'm sure they can wait--" You were immediately cut off by several indignant voices, all trying to be louder than the other.  
Natasha, throwing her hands in the air as she shouted. "How long have you been together?"  
Thor, looking amazed and confused, a too-small party hat tilted precariously on his head. "Why didn't you tell us?  
Clint, still looking excited about the bet that he’d won, "Do you not trust us?"  
Bucky, shaking his head back and forth and looking at you and Steve like he’d walked in on your having sex. "I can't believe little Stevie was smooth enough to finally land himself a dame! And such a pretty one, at that," he added as an afterthought.  
Bruce, blushing and looking like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was in that moment. "Do you, um, want us to leave so you can put on some clothes?"  
Wanda, face twisted in disgust and confusion. “How did I not see this in your minds?  
And finally Tony, with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he thumbed the string of the party hat around his neck thoughtfully. "Cap, is she as good in bed as I've always imagined?"  
After throwing a pillow and a few choice words at Tony for his crude remark, you closed your eyes and silently counted to ten. All you really wanted was to curl up in bed with Steve and forcibly cuddle him for the entire day, but you knew that wasn't going to happen, at least not until you provided your friends with some answers. And hell, even then your quiet day of peace wasn’t a guarantee.  
Steve beat you to the explanation, though, sensing your obvious discomfort. He held up his hands to stop the flow of questions, and then addressed each person in turn, voice never wavering from its usual steadiness. "Natasha, we've been together for about five months now. Thor, we were trying to keep a low profile, and it was just easier this way. It's not often we get real privacy to ourselves. Clint, of course we trust you all, but like I said, we just wanted privacy. Bucky, thanks, pal. Bruce, we would love nothing more than a few minutes to get dressed, thank you for your consideration,” Steve shot a look at Tony, who only smirked. “Wand,: we were extra-careful around you, and believe me, it was extremely difficult. Tony, I--"  
"If you know what’s good for you, Rogers, you won’t dare to answer that question," you snapped, but then you winked at Steve, softening your harsh words. "However, if you don't mind, I'm going back to my room," you sauntered past the group, grabbing the stack of pancakes from Tony as you passed by. "Thanks for the gifts and everything, guys, it’s really sweet. And oh, I'll most definitely be taking these."  
You were halfway out the door and down the hall before you paused and turned back around, a smirk on your face. "Oh, and Steve? Come by my room later. We have some unfinished business to attend to, I believe." You winked at your stunned super soldier, laughing as his face turned a bright shade of rosy pink.  
And with that, you walked down the hallway, leaving a group of dumb-founded Avengers in your wake. You wouldn't forget that birthday for years.


	16. his best girl.

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  
Summary: Steve is always calling the reader his “best girl,” and the team grows suspicious of their relationship. Out on a mission, their suspicions are confirmed, but not in the way that they had hoped.   
word count: 3087  
trigger warnings: violence and character death.  
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No one had really thought much of it, at first. They were accustomed to Steve's old-fashioned ways of speaking, like the way he called every woman he met "ma'am" or how he refrained from cursing as much as possible. He was a man out of his time, and even though he was adjusting to the modern day, he still held onto some of the more endearing qualities of a 1940's gentleman.   
And because of this--added with the fact that Steve was a 90-something year old trapped in the body of a man in his twenties--the team barely batted an eye when Steve first referred to you as "his best girl". They hardly noticed it the second time. The third, a tiny bit strange, but they went along with it, writing it off as a silly pet name. Now, three months and eighteen uses of the term "best girl" later, suspicions were becoming higher and higher by the day.  
The team had taken it upon themselves to find a way to make you and Steve realize your true feelings for each other, but it was easier said than done. Natasha, Clint, Bruce, and Bucky were in the middle of yet another strategy session, sitting in the lounge of the Avenger's Tower, dozens of pieces of paper and several tablets littered all around the room. Thor was off with Jane, and Tony had been banned from the meeting after he suggested for the eighth time that they "accidentally" push you off the roof of the Tower and have Cap heroically save you. So, it was up to the four to concoct a plan to finally bring you and Steve together, once and for all.   
"No, no, no," Natasha threw a stack of papers into the air, groaning with exasperation. She shook her head. "That won't work! You know Steve hates that sort of thing, Clint."  
Clint sighed and rolled his eyes, shooting Natasha a scowl. "All I'm saying is, Fifty Shades of Grey is a perfectly acceptable, romantic movie. Just think about it: the lights go dark in the theater, and all of the sudden, bam! Anastasia and Christian are rolling around on a bed. Cap and (Y/N) look at each other, and suddenly they can't contain their lust anymore--"  
Just then, the elevator opened, revealing you and Steve, back from your daily walk in Central Park. Even today, when snow was falling thick and fast through the sky, covering the streets of New York, you had insisted on going. Steve was carrying a Starbucks bag in one hand and a drink tray with two cups in it in the other, immersed in whatever it was that you were saying. You removed your large parka and shook the snow out of your hair before smiling brightly at the group.   
"Hey, guys, what's up?" You asked, grinning, as you began unwinding a thick, knitted scarf from around your neck.   
Bucky and Natasha exchanged a panicked look before jumping into action. They hurriedly scooped up all of the papers (seeing as they were detailed notes and diagrams on your and Steve's currently nonexistent-relationship) and stuffed them back in a manila envelope sitting on the ground. Clint was busying himself with shutting off all of the tablets around the room, leaving Bruce to come up with an excuse to placate you and Steve.  
"Um, guys?" You raised an eyebrow, pausing in the middle of pulling off your woolen mittens, only just noticing the awkward tension in the room. Several seconds later, no one had answered you, so you turned to Bruce. "Bruce, what the hell is going on here? Why are you all being so strange?"  
Bruce's eyes widened, and he looked around the room wildly for help. After realizing that no one was going to provide it, much less make eye contact with him, he began stuttering. "We, uh, you see-- We were just, um, talking about--" Bruce sighed. "Might as well tell you the truth, (Y/N). We were talking about Fifty Shades of Grey."  
You had just taken a large swig from your caramel brûlée latte, and upon hearing Bruce's words, you choked and began coughing, your face turning a bright shade of red. Steve looked back and forth between you and Bruce, eyes wide and not quite understanding of what was happening. After recovering from your coughing fit (thanks largely in part to Steve, who had grabbed you a glass of water from the kitchen and rubbed your back until you calmed down), you raised an eyebrow at Bruce.  
"Fifty Shades? Seriously, guys? I hope you're not going with that one for next month's movie night. That's two hours of bad acting and awkward sex that we do not need to experience together." You rolled your eyes and flopped down on the couch next to Bucky, oblivious to the way the super-soldier was tilting his tablet screen away from you while he tried to figure out how to turn it off.   
"What's Fifty Shades of Grey?" Steve sat down next to you and handed you the brown Starbucks bag. You dug your cheese danish out of it and took a bite, considering your answer thoughtfully.  
"Don't you worry your precious little head about it," you said around a mouthful of danish, smiling condescendingly at the super-soldier. "You're better off not knowing, Stevie, trust me."  
Steve raised a quizzical brow at you, but he didn't push the topic, having been distracted by something else. Natasha had caught his attention as she casually tried to pull a piece of paper out from behind the throw pillow that Steve was leaning against. She stopped immediately, but it was too late.  
"Okay, seriously, what is up with you guys?" You made eye contact with each of the Avengers in turn, but their faces betrayed nothing. You should have known better than to try and get information from people who lied for a living. "You know what? I don't want to know. Steve, would you mind grabbing my laptop and phone charger from the kitchen? I'm going up to my room."  
"Sure, (Y/N), anything for my best girl." Steve grinned brightly and disappeared into the kitchen.   
"I'm going to go now... Um, have fun with whatever the hell this is." After shooting your friends one last confused look, you stuffed the rest of your danish into your mouth, grabbed your coffee, and stepped into the elevator.   
After you and Steve were both safely out of earshot, Bucky, Bruce, Clint, and Natasha burst out laughing. Bucky, through his peals of laughter, managed to choke out, "Are you fucking kidding me? She asks him to grab an object from another room, and she's his best girl? This has gone on for far too long."  
Natasha nodded in agreement, her peals of laughter dying down. "You're right, Bucky. We have to do something."

TWO WEEKS LATER

"All ready, Cap?" You leaned up against the door frame of Steve's bedroom, a small smile on your face. You watched--barely containing your giggles--as Steve struggled to adjust his (very tight) suit, wincing as he tried to walk around  
"Almost," Steve grunted, shifting on his feet. "I had Tony make a few adjustments to the suit, and, uh, he seems to have gotten the measurements very, very wrong." He blushed as he pulled on the fabric near his crotch, avoiding meeting your gaze. .   
"So, basically, your junk is squashed?" You snorted and rolled your eyes at the man, completely unfazed. "Fury wants us out of here in less than five. Think your little situation will be resolved by then? Or do I need to send in Nat for assistance?"  
It was Steve's turn to roll his eyes. "Sure thing, (Y/N). I'll meet you on the roof in five."  
You moved closer to Steve, causing his eyes to grow wide and bulge halfway out of his head as your lips drew near to his ear. "Make it two, Captain," you murmured, teeth slightly grazing his ear. You abruptly turned away, leaving Steve to deal with his suit issue, though it was now tight in the crotch area for a much different reason than before.   
As you made your way to the roof, you tried to figure out what had just come over you. Yes, you and Steve flirted often, but it in good humor most of the time and didn't mean anything. Something had changed recently, though. You found your eyes following Steve whenever you two were in the same room, and your heart fluttered each and every time he slung his arm around your shoulder or kissed your cheek. He was driving you crazy, and you didn’t know how to stop it.   
It was a silly schoolgirl crush, you tried to tell yourself. It was bound to happen, after all, you and Steve spent countless hours together; he was your best friend. But you couldn't act on your feelings, because you knew Steve didn't feel the same way about you. You saw how he acted around Sharon Carter; it was as clear as day to you that he had some sort of feelings for her. So, you pushed your affections for Steve deep down inside yourself, but more and more lately they'd come bubbling up to the surface. Soon, you would have to tell him, and you were already dreading that conversation.   
By now, you had reached the roof, and as you boarded the quinjet you shoved your thoughts into a little box in the corner of your mind, determined to only focus on the mission at hand. It was a simple hostage rescue at an isolated HYDRA base in Salzwedel, Germany, where several government officials were being held. You were to get in, rescue the hostages, gather intel from the base, and get out with minimal casualty. Then, the newly-reformed S.H.I.E.L.D would come in and do a clean sweep of the base.   
"Where's Cap at, (Y/N)?" Bucky asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You turned to your friend, grateful for the distraction.   
You threw him a quick grin before saying cheekily, "Oh, Steve's having some, let's just say, testicular problems."  
Bucky, instead of looking mortified like you expected, only smirked at you. "And were you the cause of those problems?"  
You blushed immediately and stumbled over your words. "Of course not, Barnes! Get your head out of the gutter."  
Oblivious to what you and Bucky were talking about, Steve boarded the quinjet, looking much more comfortable than he had earlier. You exchanged a quick smile (Steve still looking extremely awkward when he met your gaze) and sat down to prep for the mission. You popped in your earbuds and began listening to some soothing music, a habit you had picked up from Bruce after seeing how much music calmed him after his Hulk transformations.  
After an hour or two you drifted off to sleep, not waking up until someone roughly shook your shoulder. "Good afternoon, sleeping beauty," Clint said. "Your prince charming is waiting for you so he can start the briefing."  
You chose to ignore Clint's comments as you scrambled to your feet. You grabbed your holsters from beneath your chair and made your way to the back of the jet, where the rest of the team had already assembled. Steve shot you a quick grin before speaking. "We all know the plan, right? A quick, in and out hostage rescue and intelligence collection. Tony, knock out as many soldiers from above as you can. Don't kill unless necessary. Natasha and Clint, you're on intel. Once we get you in you'll have five minutes to get everything we need before other bases are alerted and send backup. Bruce, unless we issue a code green, you need to stay here. Bucky and (Y/N), you're with me. We'll take the front and back entrances and clear the way for Natasha and Clint," Steve paused and looked around the group. "Everyone ready? Good. Let's go."  
The door to the quinjet slid open, letting bright sunlight filter into the space. You checked the guns at your hips, and after getting Natasha to adjust the zipper on your suit, you deemed yourself appropriately armed and clothed. You followed Steve and Bucky out into the grassy field that you’d landed in, giving your eyes a second to adjust to the sunlight before continuing.   
For several minutes, you walked alongside Steve and Bucky in relative silence, only stopping momentarily to fix your boot after Bucky had stepped purposefully on the back of it. After you shoved the super-soldier and threw him a very rude hand gesture, you continued to walk.  
Another several long, silent minutes, Steve gestured for you to stop, and you immediately saw why. You were approaching the outside of the large HYDRA facility, and armed guards were patrolling the outside area. Steve made a motion for Bucky to take the lead, and for you to follow directly behind him. Steve brought up the rear, guarding both your and Bucky’s backs while maintaining a defensive position.   
Suddenly, you noticed movement in the trees to Bucky’s left. Seeing no time to warn him, you dove in front of the super-soldier, shoving him to the ground. You braced yourself for the jarring impact of a bullet, but none came. Instead, you only heard muffled laughter from the two men, Steve doubled over in an attempt to not make any noise.   
You looked up, pushing your sweaty hair back from your forehead, and saw the source of the commotion. A small raccoon was standing on its hind legs, staring at you with beady black eyes. “Fuck” you murmured, feeling rather foolish. You rolled off of Bucky, accepting his offer of a hand to help you to your feet.  
“Thanks for the help, (Y/N),” Bucky chuckled. “He was getting real ready to pull a fast one on me, I can just feel it.”  
You blushed, shooting Bucky a glare before turning to Steve, hand on your hip. “Well, I didn’t see Mr. America over here ready to take a raccoon attack for his supposed best friend,” you teased. “My, how the tables have turned--”  
If only you hadn’t turned to face Steve, because in that moment, a real soldier had snuck up behind you and Bucky, armed with a rifle and several rounds. He took aim and fired quickly, leaving no time for you to take cover. And so you fell, knees buckling and head banging against the solid ground.   
Bucky whirled around, finger already on the trigger, his rifle meeting its intended target instantly. He turned back to you to see that Steve was already by your side, attempting to bind your wound with a piece of ripped cloth from your sleeve. His hands were soaked in thick, red blood.   
“Go, Bucky. Tell the others what happened, and call back into headquarters and request an immediate emergency medical team. We can’t move her; she’s already lost too much blood.” Steve said, sweat pouring down his face, mixing in with the tears streaming from his eyes.   
Bucky hesitated, but only for a moment. He had never resisted an order from his captain before, and he wasn’t about to change that habit. He fled, hot on the heels of other HYDRA soldiers who had been hiding in the forest, leaving you and Steve alone.  
“Darlin’, you’re going to be alright,” Steve said quietly, slipping into the Brooklyn accent that he only reserved for you. “We’re gettin’ you out of here, you hear me? Just hold on for me, (Y/N).”  
You brought your hand up to Steve’s face, stroking his cheek softly. You couldn’t find tears in you, only sorrow at the fact that you hadn’t had a proper goodbye with those you loved the most in the world.   
“Steve, sweetheart,” you began thickly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I want you to know something--”  
Steve cut you off, bringing a finger over your lips. “Don’t talk like that, doll. Don’t act like this is the end, because it’s not,” Steve was desperate, now, dragging his eyes across your face, trying to memorize every last detail of the girl he’d loved for so long. “Just hold on.”  
“Steve… There isn’t a good chance of me holding on with a huge hole in my abdomen. Just-- Just let me say my piece, alright?” Taking his silence as submission, you pressed on. “I love you, Steven Rogers.”  
Steve froze in his ministrations, deep blue eyes meeting yours in shock. And then, his lips were pressed against yours gently, so feather-light that it felt like hardly any pressure was being applied at all. When he pulled away--far too soon, in your opinion--he offered you a weak, watery smile. “I love you, (Y/N), and I plan to keep loving you for a hell of a long time.”  
You returned his smile, feeling your energy begin to fade the longer you stared at the man in front of you. “Steve, can you do something for me?” You asked hesitantly, voice barely louder than a whisper.  
Steve, feeling his heart drop, shifted you so that you were better positioned in his lap. Blood was already seeping through the makeshift bandage he’d tied around your midsection, and it would be a long time before the medics arrived. “Anything, (Y/N).”  
“Make sure and tell everyone how much I love them,” at this, your voice began quivering slightly, but you pressed on. “Tony and Bucky, in particular. Make sure they always remember their worth. And tell Natasha that she was the sister I never had, and Clint that I’ll have to take a rain check on our archery lesson. Tell him that I’m thankful for his continued patience in my shitty skills,” you paused, coughing. “Let Bruce know how much I admired him, not only for his work, but for his humanity. Tell Thor that he is the kindest of them all. And Steve…” You trailed off, unsure of how to put all of your long-pent up feelings into words. “You are so much braver, and wiser, and good, and whole, than you’ll ever know.”  
And with that, your head lolled to the side, and Steve knew that you were gone. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, eyes shining with fresh tears. “Anything for my best girl,” he murmured, closing his eyes, knowing with all his heart that it was the last time he’d ever say those words to you.


	17. breath of life.

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  
summary: After the reader and Wanda cause mass destruction on a mission, Steve is left to pick up the pieces, though he isn’t entirely whole himself.   
word count: 2086  
trigger warnings: minor violence.   
A/N: contains minor Civil War spoilers, so read at your own risk!  
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Screams echoed from the television mounted on the wall, fading in and out with the newscaster’s voice. Snippets of video footage, of mothers crying for their lost children, of the bloodied, mangled faces of the few surviving victims, flashed across the screen. You looked away, but the images were already ingrained into your brain. After all, you were the reason that it had happened. You were the reason that families had been torn apart, that innocent people would rather jump from the top floors of the burning buildings rather than be slowly burned to death. It was all your fault, and nothing you could do would change that.   
They thought of you as a monster. A freak of society, a plague on humanity. You were nothing more than a test experiment gone wrong, something that should have been killed before it had a chance to thrive. Wanda Maximoff and (F/N) (L/N), the witches, the murderers. And the more you heard those accusations, the more you started to believe them.   
“The US Government has been tight-lipped on how they plan to deal with this latest string of superhero-related destruction,” the young newscaster said, her lips pressed into a thin line. “One thing is certain, though. These people must be held accountable for the things they’ve done, and they must be controlled--”  
The television switched off, leaving you staring blankly at a black screen. You heard quiet footsteps behind you, already identifying the sudden presence in the room as Steve before he sat down next to you on the bed. You leaned into his side, already knowing that his arm would be waiting to catch you before you did it. Steve pressed his lips against your hair gently, the feeling of his breath against your skin sending cool shivers down your spine.   
After several minutes of blissful silence, you knew you had to address what had happened. You and Steve hadn’t spoken of the incident after arriving back at the Avengers compound, instead choosing to focus on upcoming missions and the search for Bucky. You hadn’t seen Wanda, either, even though she was your best friend and you often spent most of your days together. Secretly, you were scared to be around each other after what had happened, though neither of you would admit it out loud.   
“(Y/N)?” Steve said quietly, rousing you from your thoughts. You let out a hum in response, tilting your head so that you could meet his gaze. “We need to talk.”  
You sat up at this, pushing yourself away from Steve. This was it, then. The moment when he told you that he couldn’t love you anymore. That you couldn’t remain on the team. That you were a danger to society.   
Steve, seeing the panicked look in your eyes, backtracked quickly. “No, (Y/N), that’s not what I meant. We need to talk about what happened, and what we can do to fix this.”  
You sighed deeply, looking at a fixed point on the wall above Steve’s head. Already, you could hear the screams of terror and glass shattering as you let your mind go back to that day, the day where everything went wrong…  
You finished off the last of the HYDRA agents in your vicinity, now hot on Rumlow heels. You’d lost sight of Natasha, but Wanda was still running at your side. You glanced down at her hands and saw that they were already gleaming red with power. You concentrated your mind as well, conjuring up a blue haze of energy as you hurtled down the street. Then, you saw it.   
Steve had Rumlow by the throat in the middle of a crowded market, both men looking a little bloody, but still standing. Rumlow was saying something to Steve, sick satisfaction evident on his scarred face, but you weren’t close enough to hear what it was. Whatever words Rumlow was muttering, though, they were visibly affecting Steve. You saw his mouth slightly part, and for a second, he looked like he’d seen a ghost…  
And then a bomb was thrown in the middle of the street, a swarm of civilians surrounding it. You knew that there wasn’t time to evacuate, and from their expressions, Steve and Wanda knew it as well. Steve and you exchanged one quick, panicked look, and you realized that he wasn’t planning on letting these innocent people die. His body tensed, teeth gritting, as he prepared to throw himself on top of the bomb.   
And you couldn’t let that happen. “Wanda!” You screamed, and she seemed to understand immediately. Using her powers, she threw the bomb up and into the air. You realized that it wasn’t far away enough, though, and using your own powers this time, you pushed it through a window into the next building.   
It was only then that you noticed that the building hadn’t been empty like you’d originally thought. Terrified screams were heard all throughout the marketplace, and all you and Wanda could do was stare up, horrified, as you watched the building slowly burn to the ground. You heard Steve mutter something into the com, but you couldn’t make out the words through the haze of your thoughts.   
And then Steve’s suit-clad arm was around you, guiding you away from the horror that you’d engineered. Seeing that you could hardly move, Steve picked you up, shielding your face from the barrage of questions being thrown at you. The world seemed to slip away then, the only thing anchoring you to reality being the tight grip that you held on Steve’s jacket.   
You were a monster, they all screamed as you walked by. And maybe, they weren’t wrong.   
“We can’t fix this, Steve,” you mumbled. “I know you’re trying to protect me, but you can’t, just like you can’t protect Wanda.”  
Steve’s face fell as he took in the coldness in your eyes, and the way that your hands were clenched into fists in your lap. You were slowly shutting down, just like he’d feared. “You’re just kids, (Y/N)--”  
You sat up then, completely removing Steve’s arm from around your waist. “That’s the thing, though, isn’t it? Those people that I murdered were just kids too, Steve-- Don’t look at me like that. I’m the one who made the call. I’m the one who would rather see a bunch of innocent people die rather than lose my boyfriend.”  
Steve froze at your last words, understanding washing over his face. For days he had been struggling to understand why you made the call, and now, it all made sense. You had anticipated his martyr ways, and instead of letting him sacrifice himself, you did what you thought would save the most lives, including his own. And now you were slowly dying, eaten up by survivor’s guilt and shame.   
“Fine, then, you’re not just a kid. You’ve seen hell and back in your life, and you’ve made a few mistakes. We all have. Not just any person could put their life on the line every day like you do, (Y/N). You’re so brave,” he paused, voice faltering slightly before he continued. “I will never question your judgement, because you do what you think is right. Yes, you fought with your heart when you saw that bomb, but so did I with Rumlow. He said ‘Bucky’ and suddenly I was that sixteen year old boy from Brooklyn again.”   
You were surprised to see that Steve’s eyes were shining, and his breath was coming in quicker, shorter spurts. This time, you were the one to wrap your arms around his waist, the simple gesture summing up a thousand words that you couldn’t bring yourself to say. Steve rested his head in the crook of your neck, letting out a quiet sigh against your bare skin. You stroked his blond hair softly, feeling momentarily calm, though your mind was still racing.   
No matter how much Steve tried to comfort and assure you, you knew that deep down, his feelings for you had changed. He didn’t see you as the same girl that you were before that bomb went off, and perhaps his perception had been different for a long time. Since Sokovia, things had been strained, and you didn’t have the same connection as before. Steve still kissed you in the mornings, and held you close in his arms at night, but your minds were miles away. War and violence had damaged you both, and you weren’t sure that there was a recovery in sight. 

***

Three days. It had taken three days for Steve to break down and for the arguing to begin. It had happened so suddenly, too; you had forgotten about a training session that he’d planned, and when he stormed up to your bedroom, you were staring blankly at the television. And instead of comforting you, like he had so many times in the past, Steve did the opposite.  
He yelled, he cried, he cursed God and the Devil and everything in-between for giving you both this wretched life. And all you could do was scream back, senseless words full of venom falling past your lips as tears streamed down from your eyes. You were on opposite sides of the room, and opposite sides of your hearts, as well.   
You so badly wanted to comfort the man who was now shouting words of abuse at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead, you shoved past Steve, flying down the stairs in your haste to get as far away from him as possible. You didn’t stop until you were out the doors and at the edge of the compound, hidden from view by an outcrop of rocks scattered around the trees.  
Once you had a chance to stop and catch your breath, you began forming your escape plan. It was already common knowledge that Ross didn’t want you and Wanda going anywhere, so you would have to sneak out the first opportunity that you had. You didn’t know how you were going to do it, honestly, between the extensive surveillance on the grounds and Tony’s A.I., FRIDAY. You stood, brushing the dirt off of your leggings, and froze when you heard a voice.   
It was Steve, of course. He ducked beneath a drooping branch, then straightened, his face pale and shaken. “I thought you left,” he murmured, relief washing over his features, bringing some color back into his cheeks. “Tony said that the cameras caught you leaving, but then they went dead and I didn’t know what to think…”  
You silently thanked Wanda--always watching out for you--for shorting out the cameras. Then, you cleared your throat and addressed Steve, staring him dead in the eye. “I can’t be here anymore, not with everything that’s happened and the Accords. I’m a menace to society, Steve. You’ve heard them all say it a thousand times.”  
Steve clenched his jaw, and slowly, with careful, precise movements, reached out to you. He pulled you to his side, a gesture that was almost instinct to you now, but it felt different. This time, instead of feeling like you were oceans away, you were rocking in the same boat, holding onto each other for dear life.  
And then the tears came, and you realized that you couldn’t run away, not now. Your family, your life, it was here, and if you did decide to leave… You shuddered to think of the person that you’d become. Suddenly, you could breathe again, and the world shifted back into focus. You looked up at Steve--always towering over your small stature--and truly saw his cerulean blue with the flecks of deep green for the first time in a long time.  
“Don’t leave, darlin’,” Steve whispered against your hair, his voice rough. “I already lost Bucky, and Peggy… I can’t lose you too, (Y/N).”  
You nodded against Steve’s chest, feeling his heartbeat thudding beneath his shirt. “Of course,” you murmured in response, visibly relaxing as you became aware of the tension leaving his body. “I’m not going anywhere, my love.”  
And it was true. You wouldn’t leave him, even when he went against the government and became a fugitive, all for the sake of one man. You wouldn’t leave him, even after you were imprisoned for days on end without trial. You wouldn’t leave Steve, because he was the reason that you didn’t lose yourself after the bomb, and the mass damage that you’d created. You were alive, and breathing, and so you stayed.


	18. double date. (pt. I)

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  
summary: Steve and the reader are tricked into going on a double date with Clint and Natasha.   
word count: 1824  
trigger warnings: none.  
a/n: part one to “double date”; part two will be coming next week.   
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“So, Nat, why exactly isn’t Clint with us?” You glanced over at your best friend as you climbed into the borrowed Limo--courtesy of Tony Stark--that was to be delivering you to a restaurant with a name that you couldn’t pronounce.   
Natasha raised one slender eyebrow, casually picking at her polished nails before she answered you. “He was out with Steve earlier, and he decided to just meet us there. Why?”  
For a second, you caught a flash of something you couldn’t describe cross the assassin’s face, but it was gone too quickly for you to register what it was. You chose to ignore it, having been around Natasha long enough to know that she held her secrets close to her. Whatever it was that was on her mind, you wouldn’t find out unless she wanted you to.   
“Is Steve coming too, then?” You asked, trying to disguise your thinly-veiled hope as you picked at your freshly-polished nails.   
You were of course excited about going out with Natasha and Clint, but the last time that you had been out to dinner with the couple, you had spent the entire evening texting Steve. You often felt like like a third wheel around the two, and even though they tried to keep their cute couple-ness to a bare minimum, there was still something mildly depressing about being the only single person in a group of couples. So Steve--being the only other single Avenger besides Bruce, who was currently MIA--had quickly become your go-to person for dealing with awkward date situations.   
And, of course, it helped that you were best friends. There was hardly a day where the Avengers couldn’t find you and Steve curled up on the sofa in your room together, him reading a book while you played with your phone, your legs thrown in his lap. Your friendship had been that way since you first met, though. You and Steve were like two magnets drawn to each other; from the minute that you’d met Steve during a meeting led by Nick, you’d known that he would become a very special part of your life, and indeed, he had.   
And as with all things in life, where there is good, there is also bad. Six months ago, you’d found yourself developing feelings for the man that you knew as your best friend, and you didn’t have a single clue on how to stop it. You’d even tried to distance yourself from Steve, but that only led to him growing concerned about you and worrying that he’d done something wrong. So, you had resolved to hide your feelings until you could find a way to cope with them… Or find yourself a man who you cared for more than Steve Rogers.  
It was highly unlikely, though, seeing as Steve was truly the perfect gentleman. He always held doors open for you and gave you his coat when you were cold, and he rubbed your stomach when you were having awful cramps and never once complained about any of it. In your twenty three years in the world, you’d never met a man as good as Steve, and you weren’t quite sure that you ever would.   
“Hello? Earth to (Y/N), did you even hear anything that I just said?” Natasha was turned all the way around in her seat, car parked, as she stared at you.   
You blushed profusely and shook your head, deciding that it would be stupid to lie and say that’d been listening. “Sorry, Nat,” you said sheepishly. “I kind of zoned out there.”  
Natasha smirked, as if she knew exactly what--or who--you’d been thinking about. This was impossible, though, as you’d kept your little crush a secret for half a year. “Steve couldn’t make it; he had some meeting to go to or something.”  
You nodded, feeling slightly deflated, as you began gathering your purse and phone from the back seat. You stepped out of the car, feet already aching in the ridiculous heels that Natasha had forced you to wear, and followed the red headed assassin up the stairs and into the dimly-lit restaurant.   
“We have a reservation under Barton, party of four.” Natasha said to the hostess quietly, slyly glancing back at you in the hopes that you hadn’t heard her.  
You had, of course. You shot Natasha a confused look as you waited for the hostess to locate your table, but she refused to meet your gaze. Gesturing towards you, the hostess disappeared into the throng of customers, leaving you and Natasha to hurry to catch up with her. When you reached a secluded table in the corner you saw Clint, uncharacteristically dressed in a black suit, and… Steve, his features cloaked by shadow.   
“Natasha, what the hell--” You hissed, immediately growing suspicious as the woman slid into the chair next to Clint, leaving you to squeeze in beside Steve.  
“You look nice, (Y/N).” Steve said politely, reaching over to squeeze your hand before returning to his menu. You were ashamed to say that you had blushed at the light touch from your friend, but you couldn’t help it.   
“I thought you had a meeting, Steve? Did it get cancelled or something?” You asked, trying to break the silence at the table. You accepted a glass of white wine from a snooty looking waiter, downing half the glass in record speed.   
Steve set down the menu--which you were both having trouble deciphering, as it was written in French--and shot Natasha an inquisitive look. “What are you talking about--”  
Clint leaned forward, forcing a laugh. “I managed to talk Nick into letting the poor guy have a night off. He’s ninety seven, not dead, after all.”  
Steve looked even more bewildered than before, but a very plausible idea was starting to form in your mind. Before you had a chance to drag Natasha to the ladies room by her pretty red curls and demand to know what she and Clint were planning, though, the waiter arrived.  
“Avons-nous tous eu assez de temps pour parcourir le menu?” The waiter fired off in rapid French, looking at you and Steve expectantly.  
You--not knowing a single word of French--glanced down at the menu, rapidly scanning the pages for something that you even vaguely recognized. Steve seemed to be having the same problem as well, looking to you for help, though you weren't able to offer him any.   
Natasha, realizing that neither of you were going to be able to form a coherent thought, took over. “Toutes mes excuses pour mes amis, monsieur. Nous aurons tous la bacheofe pour notre premier cours, puis le coqauvin pour notre deuxième. Je vous remercie.” She said, offering him a smile before taking a sip from her glass of red wine.   
You made eye contact with Clint, who shrugged at you, signaling that he had no clue what Natasha was saying, either. It shouldn’t have surprised you that the assassin was fluent in French, though. Honestly, nothing that Natasha could do at that point would shock you. Except, however, tricking you into going on a double date with her and Clint… You pushed the thought from your mind, sure that you were just being ridiculously paranoid. There was no way that Natasha knew how you felt above Steve; you couldn’t have been that obvious.   
“So, how was your day? What exactly did you and Clint do?” You said hurriedly, doing your best to distract yourself.   
Steve seemed grateful for the conversation topic as well, and he latched onto it. “Oh, we just trained in the morning, and ended up just going on some errands that Nat gave us. We were just at the hardware store, actually, before we came here. That reminds me, Nat,” Steve turned to the redhead, now looking as suspicious as you were feeling. “Why did you need a fluorescent light bulb tester, anyway?”  
Natasha paused, pursing her lips, seemingly searching for an appropriate response. “Tony, he still has some fluorescents in the basement, and he needed to see why they weren’t working.”  
It was obvious to everyone that Natasha was lying, and from one look at her face you could tell that she was unimpressed with her own story. You decided to press on with Steve’s interrogation, hoping that the combined force of both of your questioning could finally get some answers from the couple. “Why the hell does Tony Stark need some weird tool to figure that out? He invented a fucking iron suit.”   
Clint sighed deeply, tipping his head back and downing the rest of his wine. You were about to get to the point of just asking the waiter to bring you an entire bottle of vodka when he reappeared, your first course in hand. Conversation ceased, giving Natasha and Clint reprieve while you all dug into the deliciously over-priced French cuisine. 

The most uncomfortable dinner of your life was finally over, and Clint and Steve had just footed the bill. You had tried to insist on paying your share, but Steve wouldn’t let you, insisting that he owed you for all of the times that you’d educated him about the twenty first century. If you were honest you were more than happy to let him pay, seeing as just your portion of the bill was expensive enough to make you consider selling your soul for sufficient funds.   
Natasha’s phone rang suddenly, interrupting your conversation about where to spend the rest of the evening. Clint was trying to convince everyone to go to some new club that Tony was sponsoring, but you were already feeling slightly tipsy from the amount of wine that you’d consumed. And besides, your shoes were almost unbearable now, and the upscale club would probably frown upon a barefooted woman, even if she were an Avenger and a close friend of Tony Stark.  
“I understand,” Natasha said into her phone, her face angled away from you as she spoke. “We’ll be there as soon as possible.”  
By now, Steve and Clint had noticed the seriousness of Natasha’s tone as well, and they were both looking at her anxiously. “What’s going on, Nat?” Clint asked, gently laying his hand on the redhead’s arm.   
“Clint and I have to go; Fury needs us back at headquarters, immediately. Something about an emergency hostage situation,” Natasha said, already dragging Clint towards her sleek, black ferrari. She tossed Steve Clint’s car keys before climbing in the driver’s side of the ferrari. “Have fun, you two!”  
And then she sped off, leaving both you and Steve standing in the middle of the street, slightly dumfounded. Then, Steve turned to you, the keys to Clint’s Range Rover dangling from the edge of his fingertips.   
“Care to take a ride?” Steve asked, and for some reason, the tone of his voice sent an excited shiver down your spine. As you accepted his outstretched hand, you had a feeling that something big was about to change.


End file.
